Clarisse MUST Marry!
by RevSue
Summary: AU: What if Viscount Mabrey had brought up the old law A woman cannot be queen lest she be bound in matrimony one year after Rupert's death, just when Clarisse had left Joseph and Mia in San Francisco and returned to Genovia to await their arrival in a
1. Default Chapter

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters since Princess Diaries 1 & 2, and its characters are the property of Disney, Buena Vista, and Meg Cabot. I make no money from this work of fiction._

_AU: What if Viscount Mabrey had brought up the old law "A woman cannot be queen lest she be bound in matrimony" one year after Rupert's death, just when Clarisse had left Joseph and Mia in San Francisco and returned to Genovia to await their arrival in a few weeks? Set immediately following the first movie ..._

CLARISSE MUST MARRY!

Part One:

"The Parliament is now in session, Prime Minister Motaz presiding."

"Viscount Mabrey, you have the floor," Genovian's Prime Minister Motaz nodded gravely at the man in question who stood up.

"Thank you, Prime Minister, your Majesty. Before I begin, may I say welcome back to Genovia? Those of us unable to attend the Independence Day Ball in America will just have to make do with the parade planned here on the REAL Independence Day, when Princess Amelia will visit the country of her father's birth for the first time."

"Get to it, Viscount," Lord Crawley growled, doodling on the paper in front of him. "Say what you want to say, or sit down."

The Viscount shot him an angry glance, then cleared his throat. "It has now been a full year since the death of King Rupert."

"King Rupert, may he rest in peace," everyone murmured.

"Quite," the Viscount said. "As you are all aware, Queen Clarisse has assumed the duties of the crown."

Lord Crawley rolled his eyes. "Indeed, we all know that, Viscount! And we ALSO know that the heir to the throne, Princess Amelia, has been found in America and has agreed to be our queen upon reaching her majority at the age of twenty-one. We know, too, that that will be in five years."

"And in the meantime ..." the Viscount purred.

"In the meantime," Lord Crawley sighed as if the Viscount was completely hopeless. "In the meantime, Queen Clarisse is doing an admirable job as the reigning monarch."

There was a general murmur of agreement from the benches as the members of Parliament nodded and whispered.

"Yes, she is, isn't she?" the Viscount turned his eyes to Clarisse, sitting beside the Prime Minister, as did the other members of Parliament.

The Prime Minister murmured, in a low voice that only Clarisse could hear, "Your Majesty, I fear the Viscount is up to no good."

Clarisse felt herself tense, but she returned the Viscount's gaze impassively as he came up and put his hand on the desk by her before looking around the room, and saying, rather triumphantly, "In spite of not being born into the royalty but merely marrying into it, Queen Clarisse is ruling our land."

"Your point, Viscount Mabrey?" the Prime Minister spoke up.

"There is a law in our Constitution, a law which has been there for three hundred years, and that law CLEARLY states, and I quote, 'Genovia shall have no queen lest she be bound in matrimony'."

"Oooh," came the murmurs of the Parliamentarians.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, please!" the Prime Minister shushed them.

Clarisse stood up, her eyes flashing. "Princess Mia is only fifteen years old!" she protested. "That is far too young to marry!"

"Princess Mia is not the queen yet," Lord Palimore rose to his feet and thumped his cane.

"This is almost the twenty-first century!" Clarisse protested. "That law is archaic! You cannot possibly expect my grand-daughter to be married by the time she is twenty-one and ready to assume the throne!"

"Well, your Majesty, it IS giving her five years to prepare," Lord Harmony spoke up. "I'm sure with your help and our approval, she WILL be married by that time."

"Your approval?" Clarisse echoed.

"But, of course," Lord Palimore nodded sagely. "That is a requirement, naturally."

"I believe I still have the floor ...?" Viscount Mabrey spoke loudly over the noise as the members of Parliament again commenced talking among themselves.

"Proceed!" Lord Palimore thumped his cane again, and sat down.

"As I said, Genovia has a law on its books at the present time. I respectfully submit that, since the Princess still has five years before reaching her majority, and Queen Clarisse will be acting as the reigning monarch for that same five years ..." the Viscount hesitated, and Clarisse tensed again. "that is too long a period for Genovia to have a queen ruling without a man at her side."

Clarisse sat down, her legs suddenly unable to support her. She stared almost blankly at the Viscount. What EXACTLY was he saying?

"A woman cannot be queen lest she be bound in matrimony," Viscount Mabrey reiterated.

Clarisse was stunned and speechless. She hardly felt Prime Minister Motaz' hand cover hers and give it a squeeze in silent support.

"Therefore, Queen Clarisse MUST marry in order to continue ruling Genovia." Viscount Mabrey spoke loudly over the ever-increasing murmurings.

"Doesn't the fact that Queen Clarisse has already been married mean that she is exempt from that law?" Lord Skylar spoke up hesitantly.

"The law doesn't expressly say the husband has to be alive, does it?" inquired Lord Peroit.

"The law states ..." the Viscount began.

"I really don't think we can expect Queen Clarisse to continue ruling on her own, can we?" Count Vitello added his own comments.

Lord Jerome nodded his head. "I know my lady wife would be lost without me to make her decisions for her. Thinking is hard on a woman, you know."

"Especially a woman who would marry YOU," Lord Crawley muttered. "She's obviously not done it much."

Again over-riding the other comments, Viscount Mabrey raised his voice and said, "The Prince Consort needs to be someone well-versed in the politics of our great country, would you not agree? Someone used to dealing with people from all walks of life."

Again there was a low murmur of agreement and the members of parliament nodded their heads.

The Viscount smiled in satisfaction, then turned and looked directly at Clarisse. She returned his look with an icy glare. Shaking his head indulgently, the Viscount looked back at the men on the benches and continued, "Therefore, although admittedly Queen Clarisse is fully nine years older than I am, I would be willing to make the sacrifice and undertake the task of being the man she needs by her side. In short, I am presenting myself as a suitor for her hand, and I seek Parliament's approval."

Clarisse sucked in her breath, unable to believe his gall. "SHUT UP!"

"I BEG your pardon?" the Viscount swung back to frown at her.

She opened her mouth to deliver a blistering refusal to his preposterous proposal as she began to rise, but Prime Minister Motaz' hand tightened on hers, impeding her movements and he stood up before she could. "Viscount Mabrey has given us all something to think about. Parliament is dismissed for now. I declare this session at an end." and he banged the gavel on the desk in front of him.

To be continued ...


	2. Part Two

Part Two 

Clarisse sat in her office, staring blankly at her desk. She had to marry again? That was ... unbelievable ... unimaginable! And on top of that horrific thought, without giving anyone in Parliament a chance to refute his claim, that ... that abominable Viscount had insulted her and insinuated that he would put up with her as his wife for duty's sake! PUT UP WITH HER? She had never enjoyed her few obligatory dances with him in the past, she CERTAINLY could not imagine being tied to him in marriage in the future! Naturally, if he had actually asked her, she would have given him a very cold and decisive reply. Yet, following the session of Parliament this morning, Sebastian Motaz had impressed upon her that she could not turn Viscount Mabrey's proposal down without a valid reason. The fact that she didn't like what little she knew of the wretched snake did not count when it came to this marriage.

Like it or not, if she wanted to continue to reign for the next five years, it seemed as though Clarisse would have to abide by Genovian law, however outdated, and marry someone approved by Parliament as a suitable Prince Consort. She was going to have to enter into an arranged marriage again, for her country and for her very identity. Clarisse put her head in her hands and moaned. Wasn't one loveless arranged marriage enough for ANYONE in a lifetime? Her marriage to Rupert may not have been perfect, but neither had it been deplorable. Marriage to the Viscount would be unbearable. 

"Your Majesty?" Charlotte's soft, hesitant voice made Clarisse raise her head sharply. "I'm sorry, your Majesty ... is there anything I can do?" 

"You heard." It was a statement, not a question. 

"Yes, your Majesty," Charlotte's eyes were full of sympathy as she whispered her words. "Please, I'll do anything ..." 

"To be honest, Charlotte, there doesn't appear to be anything that anyone can do ..." Clarisse's voice was desolate. 

"I ... I'll get some tea, your Majesty," and Charlotte vanished. 

Clarisse rubbed her temples, willing away the pain that was coming in waves. She had to THINK! There must be a way out of this ... She looked down at her pale pink suit and wondered if the change out of black had been noticed by any of the members of Parliament. The sudden memory of the last time she had worn a black dress invaded her mind ... and the man who had taken her in his arms and danced with her after informing her that she had worn black for far too long. Joseph. Dear Joseph. She trusted him, and thought of him as a very good friend. If he were here instead of in San Francisco, he would surely be able to help her come up with some sort of plan ... 

No. No, that would be tantamount to agreeing with the members of Parliament with regards to their ill-conceived belief that she was not capable of making decisions on her own. She had effectively ruled Genovia alone for two years before Rupert had died, yet that was discounted now that her year of mourning for her late husband was up. Truthfully, she had to wonder how many people in the country had ever known how sick Rupert had been and how much she had taken over in the last years. 

Charlotte came back with the tea and poured a cup for Clarisse, who accepted it listlessly. Tea was not really the panacea for all ills she had once believed it to be. She almost wished she drank strong alcoholic beverages ... she rather thought she would like to drink herself into a stupor! 

"Your Majesty, the Prime Minister called to say that Parliament will be meeting tomorrow to continue discussing this issue, and he felt that it would be better if you were not in attendance." Charlotte said. 

Clarisse's head shot up. "What? And let them make the decision for me? No, thank you!" 

"Oh, no! No, they wouldn't make any decisions!" Charlotte sounded distressed. "No, he said he just felt that you didn't need to hear any of the comments which might come up, but it's just a meeting for debate only. No final decisions will be made. Naturally, your attendance is a matter for you to decide. He just wanted to let you know that you did not have to feel obliged to attend." 

"Oh, Charlotte, I'm sorry ... I just wish I could ..." Clarisse shook her head, unable to finish. 

The phone rang at that point, and Charlotte answered it. "Just a moment, I'll put her Majesty on." Handing the receiver to Clarisse, she said, "Your Majesty, it's Joseph." 

"Joseph?" Clarisse waved as Charlotte discreetly left the room again. "Joseph, is something wrong with Mia? Has she been hurt or ..." 

"No, your Majesty, everything is fine here," Joseph's voice was firm and clear. "How are things in Genovia?" 

"Fine," Clarisse replied automatically, wondering why he was phoning if all was well in America. A long pause greeted her response. "Joseph? Are you still there?" 

"Yes," he said. "May I ask why I was given a message to call you immediately if everything is fine?" 

"I didn't ... oh. Charlotte must have called you," Clarisse frowned. 

"Is there a problem?" 

"No, of course not!" lied Clarisse.

"I see. I understand Parliament met this morning." Joseph's statement sounded more like a question. 

"Charlotte appears to talk too much," Clarisse said, abandoning her pose that all was well. "What did she tell you?" 

"Nothing except that I was to call because of something that came up in Parliament today. Are you going to tell me, your Majesty, or must I guess?" 

"I don't think you'd ever guess," she sighed. 

"They've decided they don't want to accept Princess Mia as the next in line to the throne?" 

"No, that's not it. They have approved of her claim to the throne and are willing to wait until she reaches her majority before crowning her queen." 

"But ...?" he prompted her. 

Clarisse hesitated, then said, "Well, I understand there is an ancient law on the books which demands that queens be married in order to rule Genovia." 

"Princess Mia is only fifteen!" was Joseph's response to that. 

"I know. According to this, she must be married by the time she is twenty-one and ready to assume the throne. A queen must have a husband at her side," she repeated, wondering why she was finding it so hard to tell her Head of Security, her friend, about the distasteful 'proposal' she had received that morning. 

"I see," There was a long pause again. "Why did Charlotte tell me to phone you if that is all that happened?" Clarisse didn't answer, and suddenly it seemed as though everything fell into place in Joseph's mind. "Don't tell me, your Majesty. Now they want YOU to marry again?" 

"Yes," was all Clarisse could say. Suddenly tears were pricking the back of her eyes. She simply would NOT give in to them. Never would she allow Parliament to make her cry! 

"Your Majesty, Princess Mia has three more weeks of school before flying to Genovia. I could detail someone else to look after her, to be her babysitter, as it were, and I could come back right away." 

Charlotte knocked softly and entered with the diplomatic pouch. 

Clarisse smiled slightly at her assistant, then returned her attention to the phone call and demurred, "No, Joseph, stay with Mia. She knows you and likes you and she needs you. It is not necessary for you to return earlier than anticipated. I assure you, I am quite capable of handling matters here." 

"But," Joseph began to protest. "Clarisse ..." 

"Thank you, Joseph," and Clarisse carefully hung up on him, even as her heart wrenched at the sound of the anguish in his voice as he said her first name. He was very correct much of the time, but Joseph had been Rupert's closest friend next to herself and had been most supportive for Clarisse since her husband's death. They had grown closer together in the years since Rupert first fell ill, and much more so this last year, although Clarisse was convinced that their friendship had gone unnoticed in the view of the country as a whole.

Charlotte's eyes were full of worry as she looked at the queen, but Clarisse determinedly put on a cheerful face and showed by her actions that she had no intentions of discussion the matter of her marriage any further. The two worked on the papers from the diplomatic pouch until the evening meal. 

That night, after working all evening in an effort to stop thinking, Clarisse got ready for bed and crawled in, hoping she had tired herself out enough to fall asleep quickly. No such luck. She found herself reliving the moment Viscount Mabrey had smirked at her and announced that he had decided to take her as his wife so that Genovia would be ruled properly by a queen with a man at her side. Shuddering at the thought, Clarisse rolled over and curled up in the fetal position, but her mind wouldn't stop. She had to marry again. She had thought that, with Rupert's death, she would finally be free to be herself. She had allowed herself to dream of what the future might hold for her once Mia was crowned queen in five years. Now she was going to have to submit to being caged in an arranged marriage once more if she wished to continue ruling Genovia, and it just wasn't possible for her to turn her back on her country, whatever her feelings about marriage! For too many years, duty and obedience had been drilled into her.

She thought of her life with Rupert. She had been very fond of him. He had been her dearest friend. As a good friend, he had also riled her to no end. His attitude toward their sons had been the worst, and she still found it hard to forgive him, not least because she and Pierre were still suffering from the backlash. Rupert had felt Pierre had fallen down on his duty, had betrayed the country of his birth and his bloodline by wanting to abdicate. Furious at what he had seen as a rejection of himself, Rupert had discouraged communication between Pierre and the others in the family. Against her own desires, Clarisse had gone along with Rupert's dictates in order not to upset him further in the last years of his life. Since his death, she had found herself too busy and the barriers too long-standing to have changed much, and Pierre was still estranged from the family. Now Clarisse regretted so much of the past. She wondered if it was too late to try to get to know her eldest son again ... now that her baby was gone. 

A few hot tears scalded Clarisse's eyes at the thought of Philippe and she angrily dashed them away. Poor Philippe. What a sad life he had had for the last fifteen years of his life! Rupert had never forgiven him for his secret marriage in America, not even after the divorce and Philippe's return to Genovia. Even after Mia's birth, her husband had not relented and had never acknowledged the child. Despite all Philippe had tried to do to prove himself to his father, Rupert had refused to give him more power, instead delegating more and more of the everyday work to Clarisse. Rupert's bizarre will had been the worst blow of all: Clarisse was to continue ruling for one year following Rupert's death. Then, and ONLY then, if Pierre still was of the same mind and adamantly refused the throne, AND if Philippe agreed to marry a suitable consort already chosen by Rupert and approved by Parliament, would Philippe be crowned king. Of course, the year was only nine months along when the accident took Philippe's life .. just when he was beginning to come around and was thinking of settling down and accepting his duty and the bride Rupert had picked out for him.

Clarisse burrowed deeper into her bedclothes, refusing to let the tears come, knowing she had to look unaffected in the morning. Rupert and Philippe had both been two very stubborn men -- too much alike to get along. Now it seemed that Clarisse and Mia were left to bear the brunt of that strife. 

To be continued ...


	3. Part Three

Part Three 

"Your Majesty?" 

Clarisse looked up from her breakfast and forced herself to smile at Charlotte who was hovering by the door. "Good morning, Charlotte." 

Charlotte came closer, studying the queen intently. "Did you sleep well?" she asked. 

"Of course," Clarisse lied, confident that her restless night had been hidden by carefully-applied makeup. 

"I see." There was a pause, then Charlotte said softly, "Forgive me, your Majesty, but this time I must say that it is YOU who is not very good at lying." 

Clarisse stared at the younger woman in surprise, then her face relaxed into a genuine smile of amusement. "And here I thought I was very adept at it." 

"Perhaps to most people, but not to those closest to you." was Charlotte's response. Sensing that Clarisse did not want to talk about her night, Charlotte changed the subject. "Have you decided whether or not you are attending the Parliament session in a few minutes? Prime Minister Motaz stopped into the office to suggest once more that you absent yourself this once." 

Clarisse put down the toast she had been trying to swallow, and wiped her fingers carefully, her eyes downcast. Finally she looked up. "I will not attend it," she said. "But you and I will watch over the proceedings. I MUST know what is being discussed. After all, it IS my future at stake." 

"Yes, your Majesty," Charlotte nodded, but she looked confused. 

Laughing softly, Clarisse stood. "There is a secret passageway with an opening into the house of Parliament. You and I are going there." 

"A secret passageway?" 

"Yes. Do you know where we can find a flashlight?" Clarisse looked vaguely around the dining room. 

Suppressing her smile, Charlotte said, "I'll fetch one from the kitchen, your Majesty. I'll be right back." 

Sure enough, within a few moments, Charlotte was back with a powerful lantern-type flashlight. The two women walked down the hall, Charlotte concealing the flashlight when they passed a footman. "It's no one's business where we're going," she explained to Clarisse, "and if he doesn't see the flashlight, he won't suspect a thing." 

Clarisse directed Charlotte through the small chapel to the entrance of the passageway, opening the hidden door herself. Charlotte stepped into the darkness, shining the light down to guide her steps. 

"There are some stairs, here, Charlotte," Clarisse whispered as they turned into another doorway. "Just up on the right. About five, I believe." 

There was no need to caution silence, as the voices of the men in the room beyond the wall could be heard quite clearly. The women stepped up to the small metal square at eye level in the wall before them, and Clarisse twisted the knob and carefully lifted the guard up to fasten it above the grate. She motioned for Charlotte to move nearer, and the two, heads close together, looked out on the House of Parliament. 

Viscount Mabrey had just stood up to speak. "As you know, I have offered to assist Genovia in this dilemma we seem to have found ourselves in. My sainted wife died many years ago, and I have managed to continue my life without her presence. Although it almost breaks my heart to replace her, especially with someone so much older and someone who does not have the same sweet, biddable spirit my late wife possessed, I am willing to do my duty. I am EAGER to do my duty, you might say. Genovia is a great country, and deserves leadership which is truly inspired." 

Clarisse tensed, noting that Charlotte's body had gone rigid as well. 

One of the older members of Parliament, Lord Jerome, said dryly, "We really should not force a youngster like Viscount Mabrey to sacrifice his future happiness on an older woman, since that seems to bother him so much. I am older than Queen Clarisse. As far as I am concerned, were I not already happily married and devoted to my task of making my wife happy, I would be delighted to have such a lovely younger woman grace my bed." 

The men sitting around the room murmured appreciatively, "oooooh!" and Clarisse relaxed a little, smiling at the thought of Lord Jerome calling her a lovely younger woman. He always had been a gentleman, she recalled, even if he DID think women were not capable of serious thought. 

Prime Minister Motaz shushed them. "Gentlemen! Gentlemen, please!" 

Lord Jerome begged forgiveness for his frivolous comment. Then Mr. Perez stood up and said that, like Lord Jerome, he, too was older than Queen Clarisse, and since he himself was unmarried, HE would be willing to have his name stand as a possible consort. 

Count Vitello stood and said, "I suppose I could marry her, since she's in such desperate need of a husband." 

Charlotte caught Clarisse's arm to stop her from crying out angrily that she was NOT in need of a husband. Clarisse took a deep breath and willed herself to calm down, nodding her thanks to Charlotte for the reminder to be cautious. 

Lord Fricker took another sip out of the glass which he seemed to carry everywhere, and managed to stutter out that he supposed he would be honoured to take Queen Clarisse as his lawfully wedded wife. Clarisse shuddered.

Another older member of Parliament, Mr. Carlo said he would be more than delighted to marry her, and that he would try to do his best for her and the country. 

Viscount Mabrey, a furious and sneering look on his face, said that of COURSE the Prince Consort had to be someone titled. He glared at Mr. Perez and Mr. Carlo, then continued to talk, saying that he had understood that this meeting was not to FIND a husband for the queen, but instead to validate his own offer to marry her and provide the necessary support she needed to rule Genovia. "After all, I AM the most titled of the ... contenders ... for her hand, the proper one to be marrying the queen and take over -- err -- help rule the country. POWER COUNTS, gentlemen! I really feel we have much more important things to discuss, such as a date for the upcoming nuptials, and I do believe it should be immediate. Do let me say, however, that the title Viscount, to which I was born, ensures that the reins of the country are securely in the hands of the rich and powerful!" 

"I thought Queen Clarisse is the ruler of Genovia ... not her consort." someone muttered, rather loudly. 

"Well," Viscount Mabrey tried to smile through his anger at the untimely comment, "We all know how women are about ... business matters, shall we say?" 

Mr. Hiller said that personally, he didn't think that it was necessary for the queen's consort to have a title. "After all, titles CAN be bought on the internet, I understand. How could something like that be important in a person who, let's face it, gentlemen, is stepping into a very unimportant position? He will be a few paces behind the queen in all areas of life." 

"Except the bedroom," the loud mutterer added, and people laughed.

Clarisse clenched her hands and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to control an angry flush. This was unbearable to hear these men talking like this! Why was Sebastian Motaz not demanding order? He usually was very aware of her feelings ... of course, he had no idea she was listening. 

"Speaking of being a few paces behind the queen," someone chuckled, "have you all noticed that the Head of Security for the crown in Genovia has been sniffing ever closer to that very crown?" 

Clarisse gasped, and tried to see who had said such an outrageous, patently ridiculous thing, but she couldn't. They were referring to JOSEPH? 

"It is obvious to everyone who has eyes to see," Lord Crawley sounded bored. "It is also obvious that Queen Clarisse has no more notion of that than did King Rupert, may he rest in peace!" 

"It is MY opinion that King Rupert, may he rest in peace, knew quite well how the gentleman felt, since it has been years," Lord Skylar also sounded disinterested. 

"Perhaps Queen Clarisse is as cold in bed as she appears in public, and King Rupert KNEW his honour was safe?" suggested another with a sneer. 

"Gentlemen, and I use that term loosely!" Prime Minister Motaz stood up, frowning. "Refrain from making vulgar comments, please!" 

Clarisse, furious beyond belief, became aware of Charlotte's restraining hand on her arm again. She glanced at the woman beside her, feeling Charlotte's sympathy.

"Your Majesty?" Charlotte whispered. "Shall we go?" 

Shaking her head emphatically, Clarisse turned back to view the scene. 

"Perhaps, since Viscount Mabrey seems to find Queen Clarisse so undesirable physically, he means this to be a marriage in name only?" Mr. Bishop suggested with a leer. "After all, we are no longer looking for an heir to the throne." 

The Viscount almost snarled at the man, but Lord Palimore had stood. "Should the marriage be one in name alone? A very interesting proposition, Mr. Bishop. That WOULD most certainly ensure that the letter of the law is being met, and that our queen would be bound in matrimony. Or is matrimony without ... bedroom privileges, if you'll forgive my badinage, not a REAL marriage and therefore not satisfactory to anyone concerned ... the Prince Consort, Parliament, Genovia, even the queen herself?" He sat down amid more murmurs. 

The Prime Minister banged his gavel for silence, raised his voice and changed the subject. "It appears that whether or not the candidate for the HONOUR," and he emphasized the word, "of marrying Queen Clarisse has a title is not important to most gentlemen here. After all, our motive is to provide her with a helpmeet, a partner, is it not? I would say that the qualities of the MAN chosen are of far more importance than whether or not he is an Earl or a peasant." He sat down with a thump, his displeasure in the proceeding obvious. 

Clarisse nodded emphatically, then wondered what she was doing. She did not want or need a partner or a helpmeet or ANYONE!

Mr. Bishop stood up and moved that aristocracy not have any bearing on the suitability of the future consort for the queen. "In short, I move that the gentleman in question does not need to be a titled gentleman." 

"I second the motion!" Mr. Perez said quickly. 

The motion was fiercely debated for a few minutes, Viscount Mabrey almost apoplectic in his rage, then Mr. Hiller called loudly, "QUESTION!" 

Bringing down his gavel with a bang, the Prime Minister called for the vote, and, with just a narrow margin, the motion passed.

Clarisse felt Charlotte smile beside her, and turned to look at her. "What is it?" she whispered. 

"Oh, your Majesty, they have just paved the way for J ... oh, never mind!" Charlotte broke off and pointedly looked back out the grate. 

Viscount Mabrey grimaced, and everyone heard him mutter, "And there, in a nutshell, we see the problems encountered when certain members of parliament are elected as opposed to those who inherit the position through divine right of birth." 

When further murmuring arose, Lord Palimore banged his stick as he rose to his feet. "Honourable Prime Minister, Gentlemen, we will hold the customary coming of age ball for Genovian princesses before being crowned queen, wherein Queen Clarisse will dance with all eligible suitors. This ball will be held Thursday." 

A stir of sensation ran through the Parliament, but Lord Palimore ignored it and continued, "Yes, I realize that this is Tuesday, thereby give the palace only two days to prepare. No doubt they are more than capable of rising to the occasion. As I said, at this ball, the queen will dance with everyone and then will be required to make her choice. At that point, Parliament will approve her choice the next day, that being Friday, and the wedding will be set for Saturday."

Clarisse stiffened. So soon? No! Charlotte touched her arm lightly in warning again, and Clarisse bit her lip. She couldn't bear to listen any longer. She turned away, and Charlotte quickly shut the grate and followed. 

To be continued ...


	4. Part Four

Part Four 

Clarisse's heels clicked decisively as she went briskly down the hallway back to her office, Charlotte almost running to keep up to her. Clarisse found herself going over some of what she had overheard. Surprisingly, the main comments she kept coming back to were the ones about Joseph ... and how he felt about her according to the men in Parliament. Could it possibly be true? She felt a shiver of anticipation run through her, and pushed it away. No. No, of course it wasn't. No more true than the vile accusation that she was "cold". 

"Your Majesty, please, let me call Joseph," Charlotte suddenly said, a trifle breathlessly, as they entered the office. 

"Joseph?" Clarisse swung around and stared at Charlotte. "Why would you do that?" She refused to acknowledge the sudden yearning she experienced to see Joseph, and to hear his voice. "There is no matter of security here that is more pressing than his caring for Princess Mia." To herself, she added grimly, 'unless you count my sudden, mad desire to blow up Parliament literally as well as figuratively!' 

"Very well, your Majesty," Charlotte's eyes were downcast as she took her chair by Clarisse's desk. "I have here your schedule ..." 

"Charlotte?" Clarisse interrupted, waving her hand to dismiss the papers. When Charlotte looked up inquiringly, Clarisse shook her head. "Is there any point discussing a schedule? When I'm to be married off as if nothing else matters? To be honest, I really don't think I can concentrate on anything right now." 

Charlotte chewed her lip for a moment, then seemed to make a decision. "Your Majesty, Joseph arranged for a surprise for you ... would you like it now?" 

Clarisse's eyes widened, then sparkled like a child's when a smile broke out on her pale face. "Oh, yes!" 

Laughing, Charlotte stood up and moved to the door. "I'll be right back, your Majesty!" and she vanished. 

Not too many minutes later, Clarisse heard Charlotte's footsteps returning, accompanied by a strange clicking sound. The queen frowned in puzzlement for a moment, then the mystery was solved when a white nose poked in the door and a white poodle puppy scrambled into the room, heading straight for Clarisse. 

"A puppy!" she exclaimed, getting down gracefully on her knees on the floor and allowing the dog to sniff her hands and try to scramble up on her lap. The puppy rolled exuberantly at her touch, coming back time and again to push his nose under her hand. "Oh, he's beautiful!" 

A huge smile spread over Charlotte's face when she saw Clarisse's delight in the puppy. "His name is Maurice. Joseph arranged for the breeder to deliver him today and we were to give him to you tomorrow. I just, well, it seemed that you needed him today more." 

"Oh, Charlotte, thank you," Clarisse endeavoured to pick up the puppy, but he wriggled too much. "Oh dear, perhaps we should consider taking him out. The excitement might prove a little much for a puppy!" 

"Here's his leash, your Majesty." 

"Come with us?" Clarisse invited, and Charlotte smiled shyly and nodded. 

The threesome spent almost an hour outside in the gardens, and Clarisse felt her tension easing tremendously. She and Maurice formed an instant bond that would never be broken. How dear of Joseph to have thought of this! She knew he had had no idea just how necessary and how therapeutic his gift would be, but it seemed that he knew so much. Having the puppy delivered on Mia's birthday was something only Joseph would have thought to do, knowing how much Clarisse had grown to love her grand-daughter, and suspecting how much she would be missing the girl on that special day in her life. 

Reluctantly, Clarisse went inside for her noon meal, allowing Olivia to take Maurice to her suite where the puppy's bed had been arranged. The fresh air had encouraged more of an appetite than she had had for a while, and Clarisse managed to eat enough to prevent raised eyebrows and silent admonishments when the serving women cleared the table. When she finished her tea, Clarisse braced herself, and returned to her office. 

Even from outside the door, Clarisse could hear the phone ringing, and when she walked into the room, Charlotte was saying, "Please, I am NOT the queen, and NO, you may not speak with her right now ... NO, I am quite certain she will not marry you!" No sooner had she hung up when the phone rang again. Ignoring the strident bell, Charlotte looked at Clarisse with huge, frantic eyes. "You've been getting non-stop phone calls, your Majesty ... newspapers, television, radio as well as many, many men ... and look at all these LETTERS! It has only been a couple of hours, and Genovia has gone crazy!" 

"What ARE you talking about?" Clarisse asked. 

Charlotte almost wailed, "It's all the fault of those silly men in Parliament! Word is out that you are to be married on Saturday, but that you don't know who you are going to marry yet, and it seems as if every eligible bachelor in Genovia is phoning or writing to ask for your hand in marriage!" 

The phone stopped ringing and the sudden silence was deafening. Clarisse knew her shock was evident on her face, but she couldn't move. When the phone started again, she jumped. Charlotte just wearily picked it up and dropped it back, cutting off the connection. Then she grabbed it again and dialed the switchboard, directing them to hold all calls for the time being. "I should have thought of THAT sooner!" she muttered, disgusted at herself. "I'm sorry, your Majesty," she began, repentantly. "I just ... I just lost it for a minute." 

Clarisse tried to smile, but couldn't. Her eyes travelled slowly over the mound of papers on her desk. The fax machine engaged and another piece of paper was spat out, drifting to the floor to lie with numerous others. "Oh, my ..." she whispered. 

A knock at the door made her whirl around, and a footman entered, carrying a huge mail bag. "More letters, your Majesty. The post office just delivered them." 

Clarisse sat down limply at her desk without saying a word. Charlotte was wringing her hands as she directed the mail bag to be placed on the floor by the desk. Then she, too, sat down when the footman was gone. Neither said anything for a long, long time. Then Clarisse took a deep breath, and said, "Well, Charlotte, I guess we have some work to do." 

The rest of the afternoon was spent skimming through letters and tossing them in the garbage. Once or twice Clarisse found a few paragraphs which were extremely amusing, and she couldn't resist reading them aloud to Charlotte. But for the most part, both women worked in silence, wrapped in their own thoughts. 

Clarisse was trying to forget what she had overheard of the discussion in Parliament, but she felt degraded and unclean. The Prime Minister had reportedly stormed out of the palace following the meeting, and had not been in touch with her since. And, of course, preparations for the ball, a ball which Clarisse did not want to attend and could hardly bear to think about, were going on all around the palace. What was she to do? Was there even a slim chance that Viscount Mabrey could persuade the Parliament to accept his offer of marriage to her? Would Parliament over-ride her desire to have nothing to do with him and force her into a marriage that would surely make her life a living hell? 

The continual telephone calls, emails, faxes and letters tried Clarisse's patience almost as much as they tried Charlotte's. Still the women worked on, forced to read every letter on the off-chance that it was something urgent as opposed to just another marriage proposal. Charlotte had found two which required an answer because they dealt with requests for funds for charity. As for the rest of the letters, the trash can was soon filled to overflowing. 

After a brief supper which Clarisse forced herself to choke down, knowing she needed to keep up her strength for the ordeal of the next few days, she went back to the office. The ever-faithful Charlotte soon returned to her side, supervising two of the footmen as they removed the trash so the piles of paper began to gradually diminish. 

When the phone rang later, Charlotte looked startled, then answered it. Holding her hand over the receiver, she said to Clarisse, "Your Majesty, the switchboard says that Viscount Mabrey is on the line demanding to speak with you." 

Clarisse's lips tightened. "I will not speak with that ... with him tonight. He may make an appointment to see me tomorrow." Logically she could not refuse to see him, but it would be on her terms, not his. 

Charlotte nodded and relayed the message. She waited a moment, then winced and held the phone away from her ear as the Viscount's angry tones came through the receiver. "Yes, sir ... I know, sir ... yes, sir, she WILL meet with you, but I'm afraid she has retired for the evening ..." 

"RETIRED FOR THE EVENING?" he roared. 

Clarisse shook her head ruefully and Charlotte grinned at her before turning her attention back to the telephone. "Yes, sir, retired. No, sir, I'm afraid it would be more than my job is worth to interrupt her." 

"INTERRUPT HER? WHO THE DEVIL IS WITH HER?" 

Charlotte went scarlet. "That's NOT what I meant at all, sir!" she stammered. Then she rushed into speech. "Her Majesty has twenty minutes free tomorrow morning at ten-twenty-five. She will meet you ..." 

"In the foyer," Clarisse inserted quietly. 

"... in the foyer at that time, Viscount Mabrey. Thank you." and she hung up on his rather incoherent sputterings. 

"You really don't lie very well, do you?" Clarisse asked wryly. "Now he thinks I'm with someone in my rooms." 

"I'm so sorry, your Majesty!" Charlotte's face was still flushed with embarrassment. 

"Oh, tosh! With the possible exception of a person like the Viscount, I hardly think a comment like that can be blown out of proportion," Clarisse waved it off as inconsequential. "I was just teasing you." 

"Yes, your Majesty," Charlotte visibly tried to gather herself together and changed the subject. "Remember, you have your usual ten-forty-five throne room session in the morning as well, your Majesty. You also have a list of requests for visitations this evening ..." 

"No, I am seeing no one tonight," Clarisse said firmly. "Do my eyes deceive me, or are we actually getting to the bottom of the letter pile?" 

"Oh, dear," Charlotte sighed. "I forgot. There is another bag downstairs, I was told." 

"You know, Charlotte, I do believe that these letters should be re-routed to Parliament, what do you think? We have spent HOURS on them ... and really, the members of Parliament are the ones who say they have the final decision in the end!" 

"And it's all their fault, too!" muttered Charlotte. "You're right, of course, your Majesty. I will have all the rest taken there for tomorrow afternoon." 

"I DO hate to impose upon Sebastian Motaz like that, but I feel no compunction whatsoever making the others go through them. Perhaps I shall speak with the Prime Minister before the session." 

"Maybe you can BOTH excuse yourselves for the first hour," suggested Charlotte with a smile, "and leave them to sort letters on their own. It would keep them occupied while you and Mr. Motaz meet." 

"Excellent suggestion!" Clarisse nodded. 

"It's getting late, your Majesty," Charlotte ventured at last. "Forgive me, but you look tired. Don't you think you should ...?" 

Clarisse put down her pen and leaned back in her chair with a sigh. Then, without looking directly at Charlotte, she said slowly, "I just don't want to have to lie in bed, alone in the dark, and THINK." 

Charlotte had no response to that. After a moment, Clarisse murmured, "Charlotte, do you have any idea what an arranged marriage is like?" 

Charlotte soundlessly shook her head. 

"I suppose there are some aspects which are positive ..." Clarisse was trying to sound optimistic, but her voice trailed off in the end. Charlotte waited, and soon Clarisse continued. "My parents and Rupert's arranged our marriage when we were very young." 

"At that age," Charlotte ventured, "it might be exciting to know you were already engaged and didn't have to worry about whether or not you were attractive or ..." 

"At age six, believe me, it is NOT exciting. Of course, I was not an attractive six-year-old by any stretch of the imagination. As a matter of fact, Rupert was certain that I would give him cooties, or some such affliction, if I touched him, " Clarisse's light laugh broke and she bit her lip for a moment to compose herself again. 

Charlotte's hand slowly reached out and touched Clarisse's. "I understand, your Majesty." 

"When we were a little older, it seemed we both harboured some ... anxiety, I suppose you could say, but of course there was nothing either of us could do about it. And so we married. We both had such high hopes for our marriage." Clarisse's eyes were shadowed as she thought back and spoke softly. "We grew very fond of each other, and were the best of friends, but ... well," she shook her head, smiling sadly, "love is illusive. I sometimes wonder what it would have been like had we loved each other passionately rather than the warm affection we DID find." Clarisse's voice trailed off again. Then she focussed on Charlotte, a hint of fear in her eyes, and confessed, "I must say to you, Charlotte, and please, don't tell anyone, but ... I can feel a ... a fear mounting. I've only been given until Saturday before being thrust into another arranged marriage, and to be honest, I'm ... afraid. Afraid of the future. Afraid to say no to Parliament. Afraid to stand up for myself ..." Again her voice broke. Deep down inside she felt the burning of a fear she could not express -- that she was about to be drawn back into the trap she had escaped upon Rupert's death. She and Rupert had grown to be friends, but what if she was given to someone she couldn't love? Someone she grew to hate ...? Someone she already despised ...? 

Charlotte waited in silence, her hand still resting on Clarisse's. At last Clarisse began to speak quietly again, talking of the fear that she was not loveable for herself but only for what she could bring to a marriage. "In Rupert's case, I had brought him the chance for immortality in our children. That, of course, is no longer an issue. Charlotte, I have no doubt whatsoever that the Viscount does not love me. He loves the thought of the power he would be able to wield as my husband. Power over me personally," and she shuddered in horror at that thought, "and, perhaps ever more desirable to him, power over Genovia." 

Just then, a deep voice came from the doorway, startling both women. "He will never have power over Genovia OR you, your Majesty." 

Clarisse, at the first sound of his voice, felt the icy fear inside her begin to melt instantly. "JOSEPH!" 

To be continued ... 


	5. Part Five

Part Five (Short, I know, but ...) 

"Joseph, what are you DOING here? Is everything all right with Mia?" Clarisse, stunned by Joseph's sudden appearance when she had resigned herself to not being able to see him or have his invaluable assistance through the next few trying days, didn't wait for answers to the questions which spilled out as she rose hastily to her feet. She spun around and said, "Charlotte, I TOLD you that it was not necessary to call Joseph and it never occurred to me that you would ask him to return!" 

"Joe!" Charlotte's face was a study of relief and joy. Then her smile faded, and she earnestly assured Clarisse, "Your Majesty, I did NOT phone Joseph. Honestly! I did the first time, just to tell him to call you, because I thought you could ask him to come back, but ... but I didn't tell him this time!" 

"She's right." Joseph stepped closer to the women. "It was not Charlotte who phoned me, Cl ... your Majesty. It was the Prime Minister." 

"Sebastian?" Clarisse gripped her desk to steady herself. "But, why ...?" 

"Your Majesty," Charlotte said, hurriedly, "if you don't mind, I think I'll go ..." 

"Yes, of course," Clarisse nodded. "Oh, Charlotte? I .. thank you for everything. I'm sorry I ... accused you unjustly of going behind my back and calling Joseph ..." 

"That's all right," Charlotte looked uncomfortable at the queen's apology, then she smiled at Joseph. "I'm just glad SOMEONE called you, Joe, and that you are here now! Good night, your Majesty, Joseph," and Charlotte hurried out of the suite. 

Clarisse and Joseph remained standing, staring at each other for a moment. Clarisse was fighting the urge to throw herself in his arms. Ridiculous! No matter that they had grown extremely close in San Francisco! She was still the queen, he was still the Head of Security, and they had no relationship other than that, had they? Still, she suspected his embrace would warm her and help make everything right in her world. 

Joseph cleared his throat. "As I said, your Majesty, Sebastian Motaz called last night and suggested I return immediately. He filled me in on what was afoot, including the fact that Viscount Mabrey was the one behind the original demand. The Prime Minister wants the proceedings halted, or at the very least, delayed, but constitutionally cannot do it himself. He informed me that he knew ..." Joseph broke off, seeing Clarisse's widening eyes. Something told him that it might not be a prudent move to repeat Sebastian's exact words. The younger man had frankly confessed that he knew how Joseph felt about the queen, having seen them interact for many years. In fact, after speaking with the Prime Minister just half an hour ago, it seemed that most people in Genovia were beginning to suspect that Joseph harboured a passion for Queen Clarisse. The only person unaware of this, it appeared, was Clarisse herself. Personally, Joseph was convinced that she merely thought of him as a very dear friend, perhaps one of her only friends now that Rupert was gone. 

Joseph had watched with aching heart as Rupert's health had declined, and shortly before the king's death, Joseph had been summoned privately to his bedside. There, Rupert had confessed that he had never truly loved Clarisse as she deserved to be loved, and he had suspected for a long time that Joseph DID. Joseph had immediately begun to protest, but Rupert had raised a hand to silence him. After assuring Joseph that he knew him to be a man of honour who would never have indicated his feelings by any word or action to the queen while Rupert was alive, the dying king had also confided to him his belief that Clarisse had never been truly in love. "She doesn't even think she is CAPABLE of that grand passion! She thinks she is, well, frigid!" Rupert had sounded thoroughly exasperated. "I've TRIED to tell her ... but she ... she needs to be shown. I think you can do it, Joseph. Stay with her through this. She needs someone, even if she will never admit it. She needs someone to love her and needs to love someone in return. Our sons ..." Rupert's voice had turned cold, "they are weak. Too weak. But Clarisse ..." A fit of coughing had stopped the king's speech. Joseph had done what he could to make the king comfortable, including vowing to remain at Clarisse's side. He had told no one of those deathbed revelations. 

"Joseph?" Clarisse's soft question brought him back to the present. "Please, Joseph, tell me about Mia. How is she really doing? How is Helen coping with everything? Is Mia excited about her sixteenth birthday? Oh, I wish I could be there tomorrow to share it with her! Oh, Joseph, how could I have forgotten? Charlotte gave me Maurice today, and said he was from you. He's adorable, and we had so much fun with him! Thank you! Thank you SO much!" Leaning closer, she brushed her lips on his as a gentle thank you. Her own body's instant, heated response to the simple kiss astonished her, and her lips clung to his for an instant before she pulled back, trembling and aghast at what she had unleashed in herself. 

Joseph stiffened immediately, and his eyes bore into hers, making promises. A strange combination of apprehension and desire flooded Clarisse's limbs, weakening her knees. Somehow she knew he was going to kiss her again and she was already anticipating it when a knock came at the door, making them both step apart hastily. When the door opened, Maurice himself came scrambling through. 

"I'm sorry, your Majesty!" Olivia gasped as she hurried in and tried vainly to catch the poodle. "I just took him out, and thought I'd tell you he should be good for the night now. I'll put him in your room, shall I?" 

Her guard once more in place, Clarisse smiled graciously at Olivia. "Thank you, that is most kind of you." Turning to Joseph, she added, "And Joseph, I AM glad you are home. We can speak further tomorrow." 

"As you wish," Joseph bowed slightly and departed. 

Clarisse refrained from gazing wistfully after him, knowing that Olivia was watching her closely for all she was supposedly chasing the puppy. Without a doubt, the palace was already buzzing at the sudden, unexpected return of the Head of Security. It would not have escaped anyone's notice that the issue of the queen needing to remarry had arisen while Joseph was in America with the newly-discovered princess. It seemed, Clarisse thought with a sigh, that the maids kept close tabs on every movement and even every THOUGHT in Genovia! 

That night, the fleeting kiss replayed over and over in Clarisse's mind -- superseding even the recollections of the distasteful Parliament session. Once she sat straight up in bed, exclaiming aloud, "IS THIS LOVE?" before sinking back down hoping no one had overheard or seen her. She lay still for a moment, wondering if there WERE security cameras in her bedroom ... she had never before thought to ask, and now she couldn't. It would be much too embarrassing, no matter who she approached. 

Then a furry bundle landed beside her with an excited yelp. Clarisse chuckled as she gathered Maurice close. "You are NOT allowed on my bed, you know! You DO have your own ..." As she petted the dog, her thoughts turned to Joseph, and, still smiling, Clarisse fell asleep at last. 

To Be Continued 


	6. Part Six

Part Six 

Olivia fussed around Clarisse the next morning as she readied herself for her meeting with Viscount Mabrey. "Your Majesty, you REALLY should not be wearing those four-inch heels! You know how they bother your back if you stand too long." 

"I am not planning to stand too long," Clarisse said calmly, checking herself in the full length mirror. She had deliberately chosen to wear that pair of shoes so that she would be able to look at the Viscount eye to eye. Perhaps this way, she would be even taller than he was, and he would not find it so easy to intimidate her. She rather hoped that she might daunt him, but she realized that that was a rather vain hope. 

The meeting had been scheduled for the foyer, as Clarisse did not want to have any reminders of his presence in any of her favourite places in the palace. She also thought he might say something utterly absurd such as an accusation that she had taken refuge behind her desk or on the throne to avoid him. 

"You look lovely, your Majesty, although perhaps a little dressed up for the audience in the throne room," Priscilla volunteered timidly. 

"Thank you," Clarisse smiled at both her ladies' maids. "The people have come to expect that I make an effort on these occasions, which is why I must don a tiara as well." 

Charlotte knocked on the door and informed Clarisse that the Viscount's car was just coming to the steps of the palace. 

"Thank you, Charlotte," and Clarisse swept out ahead of her aide, leaving Olivia and Priscilla shaking their heads behind her. 

"Your Majesty," Charlotte panted as she struggled to keep up with Clarisse's pace, "J-Joseph said the Viscount has just stepped in the doors." 

"Inform him that we will be there directly," was Clarisse's calm response. "I do not need to be announced." 

In moments, Clarisse and Charlotte were in the foyer where Viscount Mabrey was pacing around, muttering to himself. 

"Ah, your Majesty!" he bowed, and Clarisse hesitated only a moment before putting out a hand which he kissed. 

Suppressing the urge to wipe the touch of his lips off her skin, Clarisse eyed him gravely. "You wished to see me, Viscount Mabrey?" 

He attempted a smile. "Does not every prospective bridegroom eagerly await an audience with his betrothed?" 

"We are not betrothed yet, sir," Clarisse responded distantly, not a hint of a smile in her face or eyes. 

"Ah, but that is just a matter of time, is it not? After all, your Majesty, you yourself must acknowledge that I did not write the laws of Genovia. It is not MY fault that women are inferior to men and therefore need a man at their side to survive." His voice was oily. "You surely must agree that, as my wife, you will have the best Genovia can offer. It is only what you deserve, after all." 

Clarisse wondered only if he meant himself as the best, or if he hadn't realized exactly what he was saying. She sincerely hoped that the Viscount was NOT the best Genovia could offer, or her beloved country was in deep distress indeed! She murmured something non-committal, looking at him levelly. That, she saw instantly to her great delight, annoyed him immensely. 

The Viscount became very uneasy when he saw how calm she was. He had hoped to provoke her enough that she would do or say something that he might use as leverage to force the marriage through. If only that wretched Rupert had beaten the independence out of her when he had the chance! Well, perhaps he could still find a way to intimidate her ... her and that drab little secretary who scurried around after her! Scowling at Charlotte until she tried to efface herself in the far corner of the room, Viscount Mabrey turned his attention back to the queen. 

He began employing the tactics which had always worked on timid women like his late wife. He gave Clarisse a long, slow, sweeping look and, folding his arms, walked around her in a circle, coming so close at times she could feel the brush of his body against her skirt. Clarisse swallowed, but showed no other sign of her unease. 

"Women are all alike," he goaded her at last, wanting to break through the layer of ice and disdain she had assumed to protect herself. "You like the power you have to make a man ache to his very core, don't you? You like knowing that you can make him want ... want, even though he knows he should stay away. You secretly want me, don't you? ADMIT IT!" he barked. 

Clarisse suppressed her jump of surprise, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was intimidating her. Her eyes narrowed as she gave him a look which told him exactly what she thought of him, dismissing him as someone not worthy of her attention. 

Joseph entered the foyer quietly and assumed a position by the door near Charlotte. Clarisse saw them exchange glances and realized that Charlotte must have asked him to come in. A faint smile crossed her face and she tipped her head slightly in acknowledgment when her eyes met his. 

A frown crossed the Viscount's face as, incensed, he realized that Joseph was back in Genovia and no longer in America where he was supposed to have safely been just yesterday. "You, sirrah! What are YOU doing here? I THOUGHT you were in America protecting the sweet little princess!" 

Clarisse shuddered inside at the ugly tone of his voice when speaking of Mia. She hoped her grand-daughter did not have to deal with this vile man until she had learned a lot more about dealing with such snakes! 

Joseph gave no sign that he was paying any attention whatsoever to the Viscount, who promptly flew into a rage and never noticed the Prime Minister who entered through another door at that moment, accompanied by Lord Palimore and Mr. Hiller. 

"I'm speaking to you!" the Viscount growled as he stomped over to Joseph. "And when I speak, I expect you to tear your thoughts from out of the gutter where you are reported to spend your time dreaming of pawing women who will never belong to you ... women so far out of your league that ... WAIT!" He swung around to Charlotte, who cowered before the fury in his eyes. "He was here last night when I called, wasn't he? THAT is why you said you couldn't interrupt her!" 

"N-no," stammered Charlotte, terrified but determined to salvage the queen's honour. "N-no, he was NOT here when you called!" 

Viscount Mabrey ignored her and glared at Joseph. "How DARE you meddle in my affairs!" 

Joseph replied in a grim voice deadly with his anger. "My job, might I remind you, is to protect the interests and the emotions of the crown. If you ever harm one hair on her head ..." 

The Viscount gave a short bark of laughter. "I'm not planning to HARM her, Sir. I am planning to MARRY her." Then he grinned maliciously. "A shame, sir, that YOU are not in the running. Everyone in Genovia is well aware of how you cater for the crown's emotions ..." 

The onlookers watched and gasped at that. Clarisse was horrified at herself for the fierce gladness she felt when Joseph defended her honour so gloriously by felling the Viscount with one well-placed blow. With steely eyes and a grim countenance, Joseph looked around at the others, who, to a man, backed away with faint smiles, hands up in surrender. 

"Your Majesty?" Charlotte was suddenly at Clarisse's side, stepping daintily over the prone bulk of the unconscious Viscount. "You are expected in the throne room." 

"Thank you, Charlotte," Clarisse's voice was faint, then she squared her shoulders and met the Prime Minister's sympathetic gaze. "Sebastian, may I see you immediately following the public audience?" 

"Yes, your Majesty," he bowed, and Clarisse met Joseph's eyes one last time before turning and leading Charlotte to the throne room. 

When Clarisse was finished with the audiences, she met the Prime Minister in her suite, thankfully shedding the high heeled shoes before sitting at her desk. "Sebastian, Charlotte and I spent most of yesterday reading marriage proposals." 

His look was apologetic. "She told me. I'm sorry, your Majesty." 

"Did she also tell you our revenge?" Clarisse inquired sweetly. 

Looking startled, the Prime Minister shook his head. 

A tiny smile curved Clarisse's lips. "There are, at last count, four mail bags full of letters. I do believe most, if not all, are marriage proposals. The bags are to be delivered to Parliament promptly at one this afternoon for the opening of the session. It is up to the Members of Parliament to read them and decide what is to be done about them." 

The Prime Minister's answering smile was understanding. "Very good, your Majesty. I shall see that it is done first thing." 

"Thank you. Now, Sebastian, I do believe you have something else to confess to me?" After a moment's silence, she prompted him. "A little matter of a phone call?" 

"Ah! Yes. Yes, I called Joseph, and urged him to return posthaste. Your Majesty, I do not like the way this matter has been handled from the beginning. It is utterly unfair to you." 

"Thank you." Clarisse interjected. 

"Not a problem. To be honest with you, I know how he feels about you ..." 

Clarisse held up her hand, and he immediately shut his mouth. "Sebastian," she began, softly, picking up a pen and doodling on the pad on her desk, not looking at the man standing guiltily before her, "there are some things which are to be kept private. You DO understand, do you not?" 

"Yes, your Majesty." 

"Now, Sebastian," Clarisse dropped the pen and spoke briskly again, "once you have started the members of Parliament in their secretary mode, would you please come to see me? I wish to address Parliament this afternoon, and I would like your input before I do. There is no need for YOU to have to read all those letters either." 

"Yes, your Majesty. I shall be here shortly after one o'clock." and he bowed himself out. 

Clarisse leaned back and wiggled her feet experimentally. The door opened and Charlotte appeared. "Your noon meal is ready, your Majesty." 

"Thank you. Charlotte, would it be possible for us to go outside with Maurice and eat in the garden?" Clarisse suggested impulsively. 

Charlotte looked startled, then nodded enthusiastic agreement. "I'll see to it, your Majesty!" 

The impromptu picnic was delightful. The two women sat in the sun and the puppy played at their feet and begged for scraps. Clarisse found herself relaxing with Charlotte more than she ever had before, and the two of them giggled over the incident in the foyer with the Viscount and Joseph. But neither mentioned the reasons behind the altercation, or the obvious emotions Joseph portrayed for the queen. 

Clarisse had her meeting with Sebastian Motaz, then, head held high, met with Parliament at two o'clock. She ignored the papers scattered over the floor of Parliament and the sheepish looks on everyone's face. Viscount Mabrey was not in attendance, although she hadn't expected he would be. 

Lifting her chin, very pale, but determined, Clarisse begged them to consider abolishing the archaic marriage law as it applied to future queens of Genovia. "I will agree to do the will of Parliament, as I am willing to do anything in my power for the good of Genovia. I will even marry at your request, although it is the very last action I had ever thought to make. If I do so, however, and looking ahead to my grand-daughter's reign, I am asking you to consider changing the law so that Mia will not have to submit to such a humiliating experience as you have turned this into for me." When Sebastian Motaz cleared his throat and nodded at her significantly, Clarisse continued, "Prime Minister?" 

"Yes, your Majesty?" 

"I move that the present law regarding the marital status of queens in Genovia be abolished." Clarisse said clearly and distinctly. 

"Does anyone second the motion?" 

For a moment there was silence, then a sudden surge of motion as every single man seated on the benches around the room came to his feet, crying "AYE!" 

"I would say that motion is carried!" the Prime Minister said firmly, banging down the gavel. 

Clarisse subsided into her chair, tears pricking her eyes as Parliament was recessed until Friday afternoon following the Betrothal Ball. She had saved Mia! She wondered what her grand-daughter would say about this special birthday present from Genovia's House of Parliament! 

To be continued ... 


	7. Part Seven

Part Seven 

Once again, Clarisse found it impossible to sleep. After tossing and turning for hours, she finally got up and put on her dressing gown and slippers. Maurice was so tired, he didn't even lift his head when she patted him. He partially opened one eye then yawned and proceeded to ignore her. With a faint smile, Clarisse moved to the door of her suite, and went out into the hallway, nodding to the footmen at the door but saying nothing. She made her way to the suite she and Rupert had shared and which Philippe had taken over after Rupert's death. Somehow, these two seemed very close tonight. She wandered around the room for a while, lightly touching some of Philippe's 'treasures' which still remained. This 'master' suite would be ideal for Mia after her twenty-first birthday, Clarisse decided, looking around. She did not want to move back in herself, there were too many memories here. It definitely needed renovating to make it appealing to a young queen, but there were five years to do it, so that should not be a problem at all.

Sitting down on the sofa, Clarisse leaned back, closed her eyes, and thought about Rupert and Philippe again. Men she had admired, men she still missed. Her marriage may not have been perfect, may not have won any awards for deepest love, but it had been ... comfortable, for the most part. Now she wondered how her life was going to unfold. What would it be like in the future, in the very NEAR future, of next week? How would a new marriage change things? She sincerely hoped for the better, but she feared the worst. And the first change to come was the Betrothal Ball.

How Clarisse loathed the thought of that ball! Usually it was exciting to pick out a new gown, but somehow she could not manufacture her usual excitement. Instead, although Olivia and Priscilla had been horrified by her decision, Clarisse had insisted she would not get a new gown for the evening. "I do not expect to enjoy the ball," she had sighed. "The peachy one I wore in San Francisco has not been seen by too many people here, I shall wear that one. I like it."

That evening a week ago had been thrilling. The anxiety with which the evening had begun had changed to euphoria in the blink of an eye when Joseph had arrived at the Embassy with a dripping-wet, bedraggled and contrite Mia in tow. From that moment on, the Independence Day Ball had taken on a sparkle and an excitement it had never had before. Joseph had claimed Clarisse for many of the dances that night, and had walked her to her rooms, holding her hand as if they had been teenagers like Mia and her friends. Joseph had admired her dress aloud, and Clarisse hoped now he would remember the feelings of the previous week when he saw her again. Joseph. Clarisse's heart raced as she allowed herself to think of him again. She had not seen him since he had so gallantly defended her honour. Charlotte had prevaricated when Clarisse had tried to bring his name casually into the conversation last evening, and Clarisse had dropped the subject immediately. 

Knowing that the only reason she was thinking so much about Joseph lately was simply because of the ruling from Parliament that she must marry in order to continue to rule for the next five years, Clarisse found herself yearning for Joseph to give her a sign that he truly felt for her what 'everyone' in Genovia had supposedly suspected for years. She had kissed him so very briefly the other night and had not really had time to ascertain how he had felt about it. What would he have done had Olivia not interrupted them? Would he have kissed her as she had thought, or would he have merely set her further away from him? What could she do, more than what she already HAD done, to show him that she wanted to know his feelings for her firsthand instead of via the grapevine? Seduce him? Clarisse smiled wryly. How could she possibly even begin to seduce the man when it had been years, if ever, that a man had been so attractive to her? She had forgotten how to seduce anyone, had she ever known in the first place! 

Suddenly there was a soft tap on the door, and it opened as Clarisse sat up straight. Charlotte peeked around the door, trying to see through the dim light.

"I'm here, Charlotte," Clarisse said quietly. "On the sofa. Come in. Turn on the light, if you must." 

Charlotte stepped inside and the door closed behind her. "I'm sorry, your Majesty. I don't mean to interrupt you, but Joseph saw you going down the hallway, and he was a little worried. He phoned me and asked me to come to see if you were all right." 

"I'm fine. Just ... wide-awake and thinking. Thank you for worrying about me. Or rather, for getting up and coming after me because someone else was worried! I'm sorry to put everyone to so much trouble." 

"It's all right. I wasn't sleeping anyway." Charlotte confessed. 

"You may turn the light on if you wish," Clarisse said again. "Come over here and sit down. No need to hover by the door. Unless you'd rather leave ...?" 

"If you want me to leave you alone, I ..." 

Clarisse sighed. "Charlotte, you are a dear girl, but you are too much like a doormat, trying to please everyone, especially me, all the time. Come, sit beside me." 

Leaving the light off, Charlotte made her way to the sofa and perched on the edge, trying to sit properly. Clarisse chuckled, pulled her dressing gown more tightly around her and curled up in one corner of the sofa, inviting Charlotte to tuck her feet up in the other. Charlotte obeyed, silently. Clarisse began to talk softly about her marriage to Rupert, her life in these very rooms, and how changed things had been when her best friend and husband had died.

"That must have been the worst day of your life," Charlotte murmured. 

"Hmmm," Clarisse was non-committal. "It is always hard to lose a friend." 

"Yes," Charlotte's voice was sad, and Clarisse realized with a start that she really did not know much about Charlotte's personal life. It sounded very much as if she had lost a dear friend as well!

"After Rupert was gone, Pierre had to affirm his abdication," Clarisse said. "He had a letter to Sebastian Motaz that very night. In a sense, I lost two people that night, as Pierre left immediately following Rupert's funeral, and only returned for Philippe's funeral." 

"You could still see him," Charlotte commented after a moment's silence. 

"I suppose I could," Clarisse admitted, "but it has almost been too long ..." 

"I should think it hard to lose a child except to death," Charlotte's voice was low. "Even if you didn't see him, you would be wondering how he was, hoping he was warm, cared for ..." 

After a brief silence, Clarisse whispered, "Charlotte? What are you saying?"

"I ... oh, nothing, your Majesty ...I was just ... talking ..." 

Clarisse sat up and hugged her knees, staring at Charlotte's slight form huddled on the opposite end of the sofa. "Would you care to talk more?" 

"Not right now," was the quiet response. 

"I see. Well, then ..." Clarisse cast around for something else to say, and a picture on the mantel caught her eye. Her face relaxed into a smile. "I remember Philippe was always one for the girls when he was a teenager. Rupert, and even Pierre many times, were horrified by the antics Philippe would get up to while showing off. I loved Philippe dearly, but he never really grew up. I suppose that was partly my fault for spoiling him, as well as Rupert's for being so domineering. He was changed after being in America, but that was to be expected. It took a number of years, but the wildness was beginning to wear off when ..." she stopped, then continued, "Dear Philippe, he so wanted to make Rupert proud of the man he had become, but Rupert seemed to have blinders where his sons were concerned. Nothing Pierre or Philippe did was right in Rupert's eyes. He used to rage at Philippe's whiskers, for heaven's sake, and so many men have beards and moustaches!" 

"Yes," Charlotte seemed to smile, and she continued dreamily, "He was so handsome, and so sweet. Oh, he LOOKED fierce with those black whiskers, but they were so soft to the touch. Like him, in a way. Tough outside, marshmallow inside ..."

Clarisse stared at her, realizing instantly that Charlotte had been talking more to herself than anyone and had obviously forgotten that she was sitting there. She exclaimed, "You were in love with him!" 

Charlotte jumped, then began to stammer, "No! No, your Majesty. He ... he kissed me last year under the mistletoe, that was all ... No, there was nothing between us, not really ..." 

Clarisse's face softened and, paying no attention to Charlotte's protests, she said, "So you miss him the way I do ..." 

"He was going to marry HER ..." Charlotte whispered. "He truly never thought of me in that way, and he shouldn't have. I was not worthy ..." 

Clarisse leaned forward and took Charlotte's cold hands. "I would have welcomed you as a daughter-in-law." 

Now tears were sliding down Charlotte's cheeks. Clarisse could see them glinting in the moonlight. "I could not have married him, even had the thought ever crossed his mind." 

"Why?" was Clarisse's simple question. 

"Because ..." Charlotte's voice trailed off. 

Then Clarisse took a chance and asked gently, "Was your child Philippe's as well?" 

Charlotte pulled her hands from Clarisse's and buried her face in them. "No!" came the muffled sobs. "No ... no ..." 

Clarisse quickly readjusted their positions on the couch, putting her arms around the younger woman and letting her cry out her pain. She rather awkwardly patted Charlotte's back, still not used to being in the role of comforter. "Oh, Charlotte, I'm sorry I never knew ..." she whispered. She had been feeling sorry for herself, feeling alone and frightened of the future, and someone as close to her as Charlotte had been carrying a heavier load than she had ever imagined. Clarisse worried about a second marriage, while it seemed that Charlotte had lost a child, then a man who might have been a husband. Sometime Clarisse hoped Charlotte would tell her the entire story, but now was not the time. It was almost dawn, the sky to the east beginning to grow a little lighter. If either of them were to be fresh for the ball in the evening, they needed a bit of rest. 

Charlotte had grown quiet in Clarisse's arms, and now struggled to sit up, wiping her face with the back of her hands. "I'm ... I'm all right now. I'm so sorry, your M ..." 

"Charlotte, please. Don't apologize," Clarisse interrupted her. "I DO think you need to go back to your room and try to sleep. I don't want to see you until noon, understand? Besides," she added lightly, "I need my beauty sleep, and hope not to get up until quite late." 

Charlotte's smile was wobbly, but she nodded, and stood, tightening the belt of her robe. "Thank you, your Majesty. Good night." 

"Good night, Charlotte," When Charlotte had slipped out the door, Clarisse leaned back again, closing her eyes. What a night! More and more unexpected happenings ... so much grief, pain and suffering! Idly she wondered how old Charlotte's baby would be now, and spared a passing wish that she HAD been the grandmother. Pierre would certainly never marry and have children, so Mia was her only one. Still, what a joy she was. For only having known the girl for seven weeks, Clarisse already loved her fiercely. She was so like her father! No wonder Charlotte had become so close to Mia! 

At last Clarisse realized it was time to return to her own rooms. As she opened the door, however, she was startled to see Joseph standing there, about to knock. He came in, looking at her intently. Clarisse automatically backed up a pace and tried to smile. "H-hello, Joseph." 

"I just walked Charlotte back to her room," he said softly. "She had been crying. She said you were all right, but I wanted to check for myself." 

"I'm fine," Clarisse said, quickly. "Just fine!" 

"You are no longer concerned about tonight's ball, or Saturday's wedding?" he asked bluntly. 

"Oh," she tried to smile and looked away, her hands going to the lapels of her dressing gown and wrapping it closely around her.

"Clarisse, I ..." his voice trailed off, then he groaned and put his hands on her shoulders and drew her closer, forcing her to look at him. Joseph knew that, as her Head of Security, he shouldn't be the one to show her what it was her life had thus far been missing, what he suspected she might even think she didn't possess, or could ever even possibly understand. But even as he searched her eyes and warned himself to not go down that path, he could feel his reason slip away. He leaned towards her and his lips covered hers lightly. 

Somehow Clarisse found her hands on his chest, not to push him away, but to steady herself so that she could tilt her head, and part her lips a little. He gave her soft kisses, whispers, a slight sweep over her lower lip, a sweep that sent a rocket of sensation through her body. Suddenly all the loneliness and pain Clarisse had felt for years took hold, a sob caught in her chest and then pushed its way up her throat. "I'm sorry!" she choked. "I don't know why I'm so emotional! I ... I just can't believe that Parliament is still going to make me do this!" 

The next thing she knew, she was fully in his arms and he was holding her against him, delighting in the feel of her, stroking his hands through her hair, across her shoulders, down her back. She buried her face in the hardness of his chest, wrapped her arms around his waist and let him hold her tightly. Then slowly, inevitably, everything began to change. His body grew harder, hotter. And the pain of her past was superseded by the trembling of her limbs and the quickening of her heart. 

He cradled her head in his hands, and lowered his lips to hers. His kiss was searing and, she realized quickly, moaning low in her throat, exactly what she needed. Clarisse's mouth turned to instant flame, surprising him and confirming her attraction with her intense response. He had almost expected rejection but not this ... honest need.

Clarisse was tired of pretending she could do without being touched or kissed or held, tired of a long period of abstinence and the absence of physical tenderness in her life. She wanted this closeness. She wanted Joseph, in every way possible. This man wanted her and loved her with all of his being. Clarisse knew it, had always known it deep in her heart, yet had denied it by refusing to even think about it. Now she felt as if she had been admitted to the silent part of his soul where his deepest secrets lay.

He pulled her closer still, and deepened the kiss. Her body came alive at his touch. No one could mistake her reaction. He certainly couldn't, especially when her arms wrapped around his neck. Each knew the other had waited a long time for this. He kissed her with every bit of finesse he had ever learned. Or tried to. Somehow, all seduction knowledge went out of his head with her in his arms. He felt as if he were a schoolboy with his first girl again. He kissed her cheeks, her forehead, her eyelids. He buried his face in her hair. It had been such a long time of wanting, hopeless waiting, loving from a distance. Now that a miracle had occurred, he couldn't touch her enough, hold her enough, love her enough.

Speech was unnecessary and impossible, for their joining was sweet and swift. They experienced power and strength and passion. It was breathtaking and exhilarating, inspiring and soul-stirring. And it was their chance, perhaps their only chance, to partake of a moment of paradise. When it was over and they lay spent, sated and replete, Clarisse absently trailed her fingers across Joseph's abdomen.

He got up on one elbow, and gently traced her passion-swollen lips. "You look well-kissed, my love."

Her lips curved in a gentle smile. "I am."

"I could stay here forever, but this floor is damned hard!"

Clarisse chuckled as she turned and looked out the window. "Oh my, the sun is coming up ... I must go."

Joseph helped her don her nightgown and dressing gown and stepped quickly into his own rumpled clothing.

As she stood with her hand on the door, Clarisse turned back and said softly, "Thank you, Joseph. Thank you." Before he could say anything, she was gone. 

To be Continued


	8. Part Eight

Part Eight 

In spite of the short notice, the Betrothal Ball was very elaborate. The ballroom was filled with flower arrangements and greenery, so much so that it appeared to be a conservatory or bower, and the scent was intoxicating. The wives of the married Parliamentarians had picked out the music and even now, soft strains were spilling out into the twilight. The moon was rising over the garden. It was a beautiful night. 

Clarisse, alone for the first time in hours after Olivia and Priscilla had finished helping her dress, leaned carefully against her bedroom door and closed her eyes as she tried to gather strength for the evening ahead. She had had no appetite all day, and consequently had eaten little. She wondered if that had been a mistake, as she felt a little light-headed now. She hadn't seen Charlotte or Joseph since the early hours of the morning, and she desperately wanted to see both. Olivia had volunteered the information that Charlotte had been occupied all afternoon with Sheila Motaz, going over the final details for the ball. Clarisse had not had the nerve to ask about Joseph. 

After coming back to her own room this morning, Clarisse had fallen asleep almost instantly. When Priscilla had managed to awaken her a few hours later, Clarisse had started to wonder if she had really just been dreaming about Charlotte's revelations, and ... and Joseph's kisses. Then she had touched her still-tender lips, and had known that it had not been a dream. It had been a wonderfully sweet interlude, but now ... 

Clarisse trembled slightly and pressed her hands on the door in an attempt to steady her nerves, feeling the fear coiling inside her again. It had not been completely banished. In fact, it was almost worse. Now the thought of being married to ANYONE but Joseph was unbearable. What was she going to do? Why had she told Parliament she would go through with this? Was there any way out, at this late date? 

A knock came at the door of her suite, and Clarisse heard Olivia's voice answering the deeper voice of Lord Palimore. The time had obviously come. Feeling as if she were going to her own funeral rather than to a ball, Clarisse took a deep breath, drew her protective shell around herself and walked out of her room as the elegant, composed Queen of Genovia. After so many years, she had perfected the ability to bury her private feelings beneath a veneer which could fool all but the most discerning observer. 

"Your Majesty," Lord Palimore bowed, and his wife curtseyed, "we are to escort you to the ball." 

"Thank you," Clarisse said simply. She was as ready as she ever would be. 

As they approached the ballroom doors, Clarisse saw Joseph standing correctly beside Charlotte. Keeping her eyes carefully averted from theirs, Clarisse smiled and said lightly, "Good evening." 

They nodded and backed away as the footmen opened the doors and as Clarisse entered the ball room with Lord and Lady Palimore a couple of steps behind, she retreated still further behind her facade of in-control poise. Prime Minister Motaz greeted her and the music began. The two moved in their customary dance, signifying the opening of the ball. Clarisse was vaguely aware that Sebastian was studying her closely as they twirled to the music, but she found she couldn't relax enough to even exchange the usual pleasantries with him. For his part, he realized very quickly that she had withdrawn behind a protective barrier impossible to penetrate. 

For the next hour, Clarisse danced with an unending stream of men, old and young, graceful and not. She was vaguely aware of dancing more than once with the Viscount, who was attempting to be genial for the occasion, but he made no impression on her inner sensibilities. She knew she was moving rather like an automaton, displaying a perfect exterior but empty, with no depth and no warmth. Her conversation was minimal, her eyes never stayed long in one place, and it was almost as if she were in a trance. Joseph was standing by the door all through the evening, watching her. Clarisse was hardly aware of him through the haze of pain wrapped around her, knowing that once more she would have to turn him away and bury any dreams of being with him. Were she to marry someone else, she would lose Joseph as a friend as well as a lover, she was well aware of that. Even though it had taken her so long to realize that she DID harbour deeper feelings for him, they were no less strong because of the brevity of time. Again and again the anguished questions pounded through her, 'WHY must I marry again? WHY is Parliament making me do this? How can I be strong enough to accept their ruling?' 

After dancing with so many men, trying to listen with a polite smile as they assured her of their undying devotion and stepped on her feet, she was almost at a screaming point. Surely enough was enough! The final straw came when Baron von Troken cut in on her dance with Mr. Hiller, blatantly propositioning her with a leer even though his wife was sitting not ten feet away. Uncaring of protocol, Clarisse abruptly stopped dancing and stepped back from him, her icy veneer more pronounced than ever. 

Sebastian Motaz and his wife were at her side immediately, having been alerted by an ever-observant Charlotte, and Sheila coaxed the queen to take a bit of a break and have a drink while Sebastian spoke severely to the Baron and suggested rather strongly that the evening was over for him. As they stood at the edge of the dance floor, Clarisse said bitterly to the Motaz' that she felt as if she were on auction as a prize for the highest bidder. 

The Viscount Mabrey, who had been standing just behind her unnoticed, chuckled a trifle maliciously and said, "On the contrary, your Majesty, I would say rather it is the other way around, all the eligible men are parading past you, each one hoping you will pick him as your knight on a white charger ..." Then, seeing Joseph bearing down on their little group with a warning glint in his eye, the Viscount melted back into the crowd. 

Clarisse watched as her Head of Security changed direction and smoothly evaded couples on the dance floor in pursuit of the Viscount to make sure the man was leaving the palace. She felt herself sway a little, and now caught Charlotte's eye. Charlotte looked her sympathetically for a second before averting her gaze, and in moments Clarisse overheard her speaking worriedly to Sheila Motaz, saying that Queen Clarisse had been getting paler and paler as the night progressed and indicating the parchment-like quality of the queen's face. Clarisse clenched her fists for a moment, praying for more strength and hoping that perhaps now this seemingly interminable evening might be brought to a close. 

After his wife passed on Charlotte's insight, Sebastian spoke to the majordomo who called for silence in order for the Prime Minister to make an announcement. "This Betrothal Ball is now officially at an end. The queen will have time to make her choice known before Parliament tomorrow afternoon. Do feel free to stay for a last dance or two." 

Most of the people in the crowd began to leave. Clarisse, with Sheila and Sebastian Motaz at her side, stood near the door and tried to respond gracefully to the comments about the lovely night, how difficult a decision it must be for her, how nice the Viscount had been and wasn't it wonderful since he was reportedly highest in the running. Clarisse felt her throat tighten at that last comment, which unfortunately she heard time and again. Surely fate would not be cruel enough to saddle her with a husband such as the Viscount Mabrey! 

"Your Majesty, perhaps we could share a final dance tonight while my wife and Charlotte supervise the cleanup?" Sebastian held out his hand to Clarisse. 

Despite her extreme exhaustion, both mental and physical, Clarisse felt she owed the Prime Minister. She allowed herself to be led back onto the dance floor. For a moment they danced in silence and complete accord. 

"I'm AM sorry you were subjected to this evening, your Majesty," he said, in a low voice. "If it is any consolation, you did splendidly. I am proud to have you as our queen, and I know you will be the best possible model for your grand-daughter." 

"Thank you," Clarisse murmured. 

"I must warn you, though," Sebastian continued, "the Viscount's impeccable behaviour tonight has now strengthened his chances for Parliament to approve his suit ..." 

As Clarisse felt whatever colour she had left in her face drain out, suddenly Joseph was there, tapping Sebastian on the shoulder. Looking a trifle surprised, then understanding, Sebastian smiled and bowed out, saying he needed to help his wife anyway. Clarisse automatically fell into step with Joseph, her eyes searching his as they circled the floor. 

"You look beautiful tonight, my darling," he murmured at last, "although tonight's emotions are nothing at all the same as they were when I first saw you wearing this lovely dress. I am so glad you have left off wearing black ..." 

Clarisse tried to smile, but felt a wrenching sensation and wondered how a heart could break so many times and still leave a woman standing. Correctly interpreting her look, Joseph smoothly guided her out onto the terrace as they danced, away from the others. They continued their dance in the moonlight until the song ended. 

When the music stopped and the next song started, they moved over to the balustrade and looked up at the stars and the full moon high in the sky. Joseph was being exceedingly circumspect, carefully not touching her although she stood so near him. Clarisse was feeling confused and overwhelmed as she remembered his kisses that very morning. The exhaustion she felt was finely etched on her face, but she did not want to leave him. Not yet. This would be the last night she could be alone with him. Tomorrow, she would be betrothed to someone else, and would no longer be free to linger, and dream. 

Joseph broke the silence suddenly. "It's almost a full moon tonight." 

"But not a blue moon," Clarisse murmured. "You know, when there are two in a month? Something Rupert said once about a blue moon being a symbol of sadness and loneliness in some songs made me realize that he took a turn for the worse in July of 1996, when there was a second full moon. The next blue moon was just this past March ... when Philippe was killed ... I must admit, I would have thought THIS would be the perfect time in my life for another blue moon!" 

"Popular legend has it that any full moon brings out the worst in people. There tends to be more violence, more suicides, more accidents, and more aggression around this time. Even the word lunatic comes from the Latin word for moon." 

Clarisse shivered as the thought of the Viscount crossed her mind. She said, "That must be why that snake of a man has been so horrible the last few days! Joseph, did I ever thank you properly for what you did to him the other day? In spite of everything tonight, I noticed the puffiness around his eye and the makeup which was beginning to cake and flake off, showing the growing bruise beneath. If ever there was a lunatic, he is one!" 

"When you left me this morning, and then did not call for me any time today, I thought you were ... sorry ... you had succumbed to the early hours, your tiredness ... that I had been too forward ..." he said quietly. 

She shook her head almost violently. "No, it wasn't any of that. The truth is, Joseph ... I'm ... scared," she admitted in a small voice. 

"I scare you?" 

"No, not you!" she gave an impatient wave of her hand. "Not you, precisely, although certainly the feelings you arouse in me are frightening. No, it's just that, well, I'm simply not good at this whole, complicated, man-woman relationship ..." 

"Maybe you just need some practice," was the soft comment. 

Clarisse smiled sadly, and leaned on the balustrade. "I suppose I should thank Parliament then, for making sure I will get the practice ... five years minimum of practice." 

"Sounds like a jail sentence." 

"Sometimes I think maybe it is," she sighed. 

"So it is marriage that scares you?" 

"It wouldn't if it was a marriage with the right man." She carefully did not look at him. 

"I see." He was silent for a moment, then, putting his arms around her and drawing her closer, he added, "I've heard that the influence of the moon on human behaviour has been called the Lunar Effect or the Transylvania Effect. The belief that the full moon causes mental disorders and strange behaviour was widespread throughout Europe in the middle ages. At the time of each full moon, it is as if a doorway is opened between the sun and the moon, heightening awareness. It seems as though the full moon can perform wonders." 

Clarisse leaned back on him, holding his arms in place as she turned her face to his. "Are you saying you're really a werewolf and the full moon only makes you appear to be a man?" she teased gently, her voice husky with her desire. 

He chuckled, then said huskily, "No, I'm saying it's a miracle that you are here, in my arms. It is a wonder that I intend to enjoy to the best of my ability." 

"Oh, Joseph ..." Clarisse sighed as she turned in his arms, her hand cupping his cheek tenderly. 

"I believe we should pick up where we left off this morning ..." he said softly, drawing closer still. 

His lips softly grazed her cheek. At that tender touch, her entire body suddenly became inflamed with the need to feel again those warm lips upon her own. Beyond reason, she forgot everything and pulled his mouth to hers. It was wild and tense as their lips met and then became demanding, exacting a response which was easily given. 

Then he withdrew his lips ever so slightly from hers with excruciating slowness, catching her lower lip between his teeth and tugging gently. "You are NOT going to marry Mabrey," his husky comment was made against her lips. "Never. He will never touch you like this, Clarisse. You are mine. MINE, do you hear?" 

"Oh, yes, Joseph!" her heart-felt words died beneath his fiery kisses. 

Sebastian and Sheila Motaz interrupted them with a loud series of coughs. Clarisse drew back from Joseph, her face flushing. 

Sebastian grinned. "I'd say the queen has made known HER choice for a husband. The rest is up to Parliament. Good night, your Majesty. Joseph." and the two were gone. 

"Your Majesty?" Charlotte was hovering in the doorway. "Do you and Joseph wish to dance any more, or should Shades and I ...?" 

"You may remain if you wish, Charlotte, but I am going to retire now. Thank you." Clarisse said softly. 

"Charlotte, I saw you with Shades tonight. You know, he really doesn't like to dance overmuch," Joseph grinned. 

Charlotte flushed and hurried away without another word. 

Clarisse looked in some surprise at Joseph who offered her his arm silently. "Charlotte ... and SHADES? WHO is Shades?" 

When her hand slipped into it, he covered her fingers with his and said, "A very handsome security guard who is my second-in-command, and who would be good for Charlotte. Had I not embarrassed Charlotte so thoroughly, she would have walked with us to your rooms, and I wanted you to myself tonight." 

"Feeling selfish, are you?" Clarisse teased him gently, smiling. 

"You have no idea ..." was his loving response. 

With each step, the tension between them grew. Clarisse was hungry for him, and it seemed forever before they reached her rooms. The footman opened the door for her, and she turned to Joseph, the entreaty in her eyes obvious only to him. 

He smiled, "Have a good night, your Majesty," he said, circumspectly kissing her hand. Then he winked. 

Her breath caught, and she barely breathed, "I certainly hope so," before stepping into her room and the door swung closed. She held her breath. Only moments passed, then the door opened again and Joseph slipped inside, closing it quietly behind him. 

"I sent him to check something around the corner," he whispered, his hands pulling her close to him again. "I hope you don't mind, your Majesty." Their mouths met with furious urgency, then he murmured against her lips, "Let's try a bed this time." 

OoOoOoOoOo 

As she basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking, Joseph held her and murmured lavish praise in her ear, and Clarisse had a sense of sanctuary, a sense of safety and belonging that went far beyond the physical. Contentment stole over her as she marvelled at how rich her life had been and was with Joseph in it. Worries about her life beyond tomorrow had flown, and as her eyes closed, she relaxed completely for the first time in years and welcomed the respite from the dilemmas of the unknown future. Her body closely entwined with his, they slept. 

To be continued ... 


	9. Part Nine

Part Nine 

It was much later on in the morning before Clarisse began to stir to awareness. She realized she was still curled up in Joseph's arms, her head resting on his shoulder, the sheet drawn up to their waists. She snuggled closer to his chest, still half asleep. Then, to her horror, she heard Charlotte and Olivia talking in her sitting room and she came fully awake, tensing as she listened to the conversation.

Olivia was saying, "I think it's wonderful how Joe has been watching the queen all these years. You can just SEE that he's in love with her, and yet she hasn't had a clue!" 

Charlotte laughed lightly, then said dryly, "It IS his job to watch her, Olivia." 

"Oh, Charlotte, you can be so naive! He's crazy about her! It was so obvious to everyone but her! Well, except that I've heard that the Prime Minister caught the two of them kissing last night, so I guess the queen knows how Joe feels now, too. I DO think it's a shame that Queen Clarisse can't abdicate to marry him. Parliament is supposedly going to make her marry Viscount Mabrey. The story is that he was pretty awful before, but the punch Joe gave him the other day has knocked some sense into him. I hope so, for the queen's sake. But I just have to say that if I had the choice between Joe and anyone else, it'd be a cold day in you-know-where before I passed up Joe, even if he IS old enough to be my father! He's something else, isn't he? Well, I guess I should take Maurice for his walk now." The voices were coming closer. "Charlotte, look! The queen's dress is just lying here on the floor ... how strange! She's not usually so careless with her clothes ..." 

Charlotte said, "Never mind. She won't be wearing it again anyway. Here, give it to me, I'll put it in the bedroom and get Maurice's lease ..." 

Before Clarisse could even pull the sheet over them, the door opened and Clarisse saw Charlotte freeze as she took in the sight of the queen in bed with Joseph. Only a moment passed, but Joseph, too, opened his eyes and tightened his hold on Clarisse. Then Charlotte pushed the dress through the door, uncaring of where it landed, her face scarlet and her eyes averted from the couple as she grabbed the leash from the hook by the door and jerked the door shut again. She said hurriedly to Olivia, "Here's the leash. I'll come with you, Olivia. Come on, Maurice! We have twenty minutes before I have to be back to meet with her Majesty to help with the foreign affairs dispatches that the Spanish delegation is bringing over." 

Blessing Charlotte a thousand times over, Clarisse and Joseph waited until they heard the outside door close, then they swiftly rose and dressed, even as Clarisse teased him about Olivia. Joseph just rolled his eyes. He kissed her again, and she clung to him fiercely, blinking back her tears as she realized she could not continue to live without him.

"Oh, Joseph," she whispered. "I had thought that perhaps one night with you could give me the strength to accept another arranged marriage, but I'm now convinced that a lifetime with you would not be enough. I love you."

"I love YOU, Clarisse."

Then, at the same time, they said, "Will you marry me?" and both chuckled even as they embraced yet again.

"I'll come and talk to Sebastian Motaz with you, Clarisse," Joseph said. "I meant what I said last night. I am not letting Mabrey near you. Sebastian called me back from San Francisco, he made sure the motion passed in Parliament that the man you married did not have to be titled ... I am going to marry you, Clarisse." 

"I know," Clarisse nodded. "And if Parliament won't let me marry you, I'll ... I'll abdicate." 

"No!" Joseph's eyes burned into hers. "You know you can't do that. We'll find a way around it, Clarisse. I know how you feel about your duty to Genovia, and I know how the people of this country feel about you. Mia deserves her chance, as well. You MUST continue to rule ..." 

Clarisse heard Maurice's bark down the hallway. "They're coming back. You have to go, Joseph! I'll meet with you later." 

Joseph vanished and moments later, Olivia came in with Maurice. "Good morning, your Majesty! You must have had an early start to be gone when I was in earlier! Charlotte has just gone to your office, and will meet you there for the meeting with the Spanish delegation. Oh, and your dress ..." 

"I found it. Thank you, Olivia," and Clarisse made her escape, thankful to not have been questioned as to her whereabouts that morning and extremely thankful that, if anyone had to walk in on them, it had been Charlotte instead of Olivia. Olivia was nice enough, of course, but like most maids, she was a little inclined to gossip. Imagine, being caught _en flagrante delecto_ with Joseph at their age! Should that fact be spread about by the maids, she would not be able to hold her head up in public again for a long time. A faint smile curved her lips as she thought of some probable reactions to her impropriety. Clarisse wondered at her mood, being more than a little surprised that she wasn't feeling ashamed of herself, or more shocked by her scandalous behaviour. She definitely would have preferred that no one caught them, certainly, but never having had much of a private life, she could have expected it. Thank goodness it had been Charlotte who had discovered them! As Clarisse walked into the office, however, she still had to brace herself mentally, feeling quite awkward about the morning's revelations to the younger woman.

"Your Majesty," Charlotte greeted her, and her face was flushed as much as Clarisse felt hers to be. "I ... I'm really terribly sorry about this morning ... I didn't mean to catch your ... indiscretion ..." 

"Oh, Charlotte, I would hardly call it an indiscretion! That is far too mild a term for highly improper behaviour!" Clarisse had to laugh. Then she continued, "I want to thank you for how you handled it, and for keeping it to yourself." Putting her hands over her cheeks, she said wryly, "I am most embarrassed at having been caught, as you may imagine." 

Charlotte opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, a knock came at the door, and the Spanish delegation was announced. As usual, Charlotte took notes during the meeting, and Clarisse was very business-like. Still, they both drew a breath of relief when at last the small group bowed itself out. 

"Well, that's that," Clarisse said, going over to the sofa and sitting down. "I'm not sure why it was so important to be quite clear in my demands, however. Come, Charlotte," she said, pointing to the chair opposite her. "We must have a talk." 

"Why is it not important?" Charlotte asked, obediently perching where Clarisse had indicated. 

"Because what happens next will be out of my hands. I'm going to abdicate the throne this afternoon." 

"WHAT?" Charlotte was staggered. "But, why?"

"You saw us this morning, Charlotte. How can you ask that?" Clarisse leaned forward, speaking earnestly and openly to someone other than Joseph about her love life for the first time ever. "You know I love Joseph. I want to spend the rest of my life openly loving him and being married to him. I married Rupert as arranged and didn't love him, but I had hopes that love would grow since I did not love anyone else. However, now ... I simply cannot accept a loveless arranged marriage again. Not now that I have known love ... not now that I have ... been with Joseph. I know you are shocked and that I should be ashamed, but ..." 

"Your Majesty, I would never presume to question your behaviour." Charlotte assured her, then added, "Besides, I've never seen you happier ... OR Joe!" 

Clarisse smiled slightly, but added defiantly, "Well, I'm NOT ashamed of myself. I did not betray anyone. I never thought of such a thing while Rupert was alive, and I am not married again yet. And when I DO marry, it will be to Joseph. I had never realized it before, but marriage to anyone other than Joseph is quite out of the question." 

Charlotte nodded silently, then, after a moment said quietly, "That's how Philippe felt, too. He couldn't accept a loveless marriage either, not after knowing love." 

"You?" Clarisse dared to ask. 

Charlotte's smile was sad. "No. Helen." 

"REALLY?" Clarisse was startled. After all these years ... "Oh, Charlotte, I'm so sorry for you ..." 

"Your Majesty, Philippe and I were ... friends." Charlotte sensed the queen's skepticism and seemed to decide it was time to tell her story. Looking down at her feet, she continued softly, "Just friends. He needed someone to talk to, and I was convenient, available, and willing to listen. He soon discovered that I, too, had lost a ... a spouse and a child. That similarity brought us even closer together. Philippe had fallen in love with Helen the moment he met her, he said, and although they were divorced, he never stopped loving her. He talked about her all the time. That's why he wouldn't marry Lady Eloise when King Rupert, may he rest in peace, wanted him to settle down. To be perfectly honest, Philippe pretended to be a playboy, and went out with all those other women simply to annoy the king. Last Christmas, he kissed me ... as a sort of thank you for all the advice and the hours of listening I had given him. He said I had helped him decide to follow his father's wishes and marry Lady Eloise, even though he didn't love her. At the time, he said something I hadn't understood -- that that sort of marriage must run in the family. I realize now he was, forgive me, talking about your marriage, your Majesty. At any rate, as Lady Eloise has since married, it's obvious SHE was not set on marriage to Philippe nor heartbroken at his death. I ... I think I could have come to love him, in time, had I ever had the right, but he never thought of me that way." She looked up, her eyes filled with unshed tears, and said sincerely, "Your son did not break my heart, your Majesty, but I truly DID love him as a very dear friend, and I still miss him a great deal." 

"Charlotte, I ... I never knew. How could I have been so blind? Poor Philippe! And you lost a husband and child? Oh, Charlotte!" 

"I was seventeen." Charlotte spoke quickly, turning her head away again from the queen. "We had eloped, but after only two weeks our families found us and split us up and the marriage was dissolved. We were both underage, and had both lied about it, so the union was declared null and void. Then I found out that I was pregnant. My parents insisted I put my little boy up for adoption, and I had no choice as I was still in school and dependant upon them. Philippe ... Philippe was trying to trace my baby when he was killed ..." Tears clogged Charlotte's voice at that point, and it trailed away. 

"Your son would be about Mia's age now, wouldn't he?" Clarisse asked. 

"He is fourteen years, six months and eleven days old." Then Charlotte pulled herself together. "But please, your Majesty, forgive me for burdening you with my problems when you have your own to deal with." 

"Oh, tosh!" Clarisse scoffed.

"I just can't believe you're thinking of abdicating! You can't, you just CAN'T!" 

"I'm not sure that I have any other choice," Clarisse sighed. Then she cleared her throat and straightened her jacket, becoming very business-like once more. "Sebastian Motaz will be here in about an hour. Show him in as soon as he comes, please." 

Accordingly, Charlotte ushered the Prime Minister into Clarisse's office when he arrived, then slipped out to give them some privacy. 

"Ah, Queen Clarisse!" Sebastian Motaz bent over the hand she proffered, and kissed it lightly. Then he continued holding it while looking at her with a twinkle in his eye. "I trust you had a good night last night?" 

Feeling colour seeping into her cheeks as though she were a naughty schoolgirl, Clarisse gently disengaged her hand and turned away, ostensibly to offer the Prime Minister some tea. He accepted a cup and sat down after she had seated herself.

"Your Majesty," Sebastian continued, "may I correctly assume that I was right last night and that you were indicating by your actions that Joseph is the man you wish to marry?" 

"Sebastian," Clarisse hesitated, then continued in an even, composed voice, "I AM going to marry Joseph." 

"If that meets Parliamentary approval, yes, and ..." 

"You are mistaken," Clarisse interrupted him, softly. "I am marrying Joseph, with or without approval from Parliament." 

He looked a little bewildered, then said, "But ... but, your Majesty, if they do not approve, I am afraid that the requirement ..." 

"If the Parliament of Genovia does not approve of my choice of husband, and makes the attempt to have me marry someone else, then I will ... abdicate." Clarisse said firmly. 

"WHAT?" Sebastian exclaimed, much as Charlotte had. 

"NO!" The two were startled when the door burst open and Joseph appeared, followed closely by Charlotte. "No, Clarisse, you cannot abdicate! I am not asking that of you." 

Clarisse looked down to hide the tears in her eyes. "No, but I am not willing to do anything else." 

"Your Majesty," Charlotte said earnestly, "Think of your duty to Genovia ... to yourself. You owe it to yourself and to Mia to see this through with Parliament! Oh, if only they let women be members of Parliament! I would soon set those men straight if I were there!" 

"Charlotte, may I say that I very much look forward to the day when you join the ranks! It cannot come too soon for me!" Sebastian smiled at her and she blushed a little at her forwardness. Then Sebastian turned to Clarisse again. "Your Majesty, it is my hope that such drastic action on your part will not be necessary. I will put this matter of your abdication before Parliament if you wish, but I say we should leave it until we hear what they have to say about your marriage." 

"Marriage to WHOM?" Clarisse almost whispered. "I will not even consider marrying the Viscount!" She gripped Joseph's hand. "I'm going to marry Joseph. I love him." 

"Of course you must marry Joseph," Sebastian beamed at Joseph, then at Clarisse. "Why else do you think I recalled him from America, against your specific instructions to continue with Princess Mia until her school year was finished? Naturally I knew he was in love with you, and Sheila told me she believed by your actions towards Joseph that you either already loved him, or would soon realize you did. Of course, we could have done nothing without Charlotte." Then his face became solemn again. "But I do not wish to hear any more about abdication. That is out of the question!" 

"Clarisse, think about it! Think about Mia! If you are not allowed to continue to rule unless you marry someone approved by Parliament, you MUST follow their dictates ..." Joseph tried to convince her. 

"Are you trying to tell me you don't want to marry me?" her voice was small and uncertain. 

"Of course not!" Joseph almost snapped. "But I KNOW how you feel about Mia, and about the country, and I KNOW you must continue as queen for the next five years ... Charlotte tells me there was some mention of this arranged marriage being one in name only. If that is the case, we COULD wait for five ..." 

"How did you hear that?" Sebastian turned to Charlotte, astonishment in his face. 

Charlotte looked uncomfortably at the queen and her face flushed again. 

"That has no bearing on this discussion," Clarisse said firmly. "Sebastian, about Parliament ..." 

"Your Majesty, I beg of you, let me talk with them first. If you wish, you may absent yourself ..." 

"No, thank you. It IS my life, and I intend to fight for the right to live it as I see fit, for the first time ever." Clarisse tightened her lips. No longer unsure of herself, her regal bearing had returned with a vengeance. She loved Joseph, knew her love was returned, and now had the assurance to claim her own future rather than allowing herself to be manipulated by others. 

Joseph kissed her swiftly, and she clung to him briefly before stepping back and flashing a smile at Sebastian and Charlotte. "I'm ready." 

O o O o O o O o 

"Parliament is now in session, Prime Minister Motaz presiding." 

"Viscount Mabrey, you have the floor," Sebastian nodded gravely to the Viscount. 

"First, may I say, your Majesty, you are looking particularly enchanting this afternoon, considering the fuss you made last evening at the conclusion of the Betrothal Ball ..." 

Clarisse merely inclined her head composedly, not deigning to answer. 

"Viscount," Lord Crawley, who had sat beside the Viscount on the bench for longer than he cared to remember, began his usual heckling routine. "Get to the point. We all were there last evening, and all saw that no fuss was made whatsoever." 

"On the contrary," the Viscount glared at his seatmate, then his gaze swept around the room before fastening again on Lord Crawley. "The queen may have seemed acquiescent at the start of the evening, but she DID have a moment of rebellion near the end which you quite possibly missed, being otherwise occupied at the buffet table." 

"Oooh," came a chorus of voices. 

"Gentlemen! Gentlemen, please!" Sebastian banged his gavel. "Viscount Mabrey, did you have anything further to say?" 

"I only wish to reiterate that I am fully prepared to do what I perceive is my duty. I will marry Queen Clarisse, thus providing her with the husband she needs to fulfill the requirements long demanded by our great country of Genovia." The Viscount bowed regally before Clarisse, then, with a great deal of ceremony, took his seat. 

"Thank you. Does anyone else have anything to add before I continue?" There was silence, and Sebastian nodded in satisfaction. "Very well. As you all are no doubt aware, I met with her Majesty this afternoon just prior to this session. May I say," and he smiled at Clarisse, "the Queen has made her choice of a husband known to me." 

The men's eyes all turned expectantly towards Clarisse. She noticed that the Viscount Mabrey was almost preening, obviously quite sure he was about to be chosen. Her eyes dropped and she clenched her hands in her lap. She would NEVER have married him, even had there been no Joseph in the picture ... even had her life depended upon it. 

The Prime Minister then launched into a brief dissertation, restating the qualities necessary in the Prince Consort, and saying that no one would be able to dispute that the Queen's choice met all the requirements. "In conclusion, it seems only fitting to reward this man for having served Genovia and Genovia's queen faithfully for so many years." Sebastian cleared his throat. There was complete silence in the house of Parliament. "However, before presenting this man's name for your final approval, I feel that I must ask you to consider very seriously releasing Queen Clarisse from this forced union." Sebastian said. A murmur arose, and Sebastian held up his hand for silence again. "It has been pointed out to me, and very forcibly, I might add, by my wife and others that what we are requiring the queen to do for Genovia is far more than we ourselves would be willing to do. We have already, at the queen's request, overthrown the old law requiring queens to marry before taking the throne. She offered to still follow through with the marriage requirement for the next five years, and we accepted that offer. Now, however, I do think we should re-examine our motives for doing so. I also do not think we have given this matter nearly the amount of thought necessary ..." 

The Viscount stood, unable to restrain himself any longer. "This has already been decided, Prime Minister. We would look like fools if we change our minds yet again! I would like to point out that the vote the other day to abolish the marriage law was made without a full complement of members of Parliament, but no one is complaining about that. I say, give her to me in marriage, and let us try to keep this country as stable as possible without benefit of a king." 

"We can't GIVE the queen away!" Lord Fricker got to his feet, swaying slightly. "Such ridich ... er, preposter .. er ... foolishness ..." 

"Fricker, sit down before you fall down," Mr. Hiller grumbled, tugging at the Lord's coat-tails and almost causing him to topple over. 

"Lord Fricker is right," Mr. Perez jumped to his feet. "I say we do NOT give the queen to the Viscount." 

"The point is moot, as she has already chosen, according to the Honourable Prime Minister," Lord Harmony said mildly. 

"Personally, I'd like to hear her choice ..." Mr. Carlo grumbled. 

Sebastian banged his gavel again, and stood up. Everyone looked at him. "I am asking you to reconsider this requirement. Will anyone make a motion?" 

There was silence for a long moment. Clarisse kept her eyes in her lap, and twisted her hands together almost savagely.

Then, ponderously, Lord Palimore stood up. "I move that we rescind our requirement for Queen Clarisse to remarry." 

"I second the motion," Lord Crawley was on his feet in an instant. 

Viscount Mabrey was scowling, but he stubbornly said nothing. Nor did anyone else, when Sebastian called for any debate. 

The motion was passed. Clarisse almost sagged with relief, but held herself together.

Sebastian continued speaking. "I thank you for the vote, and may I say now that Queen Clarisse informed me earlier that, had you not rescinded that requirement, she would have abdicated." 

There was an uproar when the members of Parliament realized what might have happened. Although he said nothing, Viscount Mabrey's face was a mask of tamped-down fury, and Clarisse suspected they would hear from him again in the future. 

"May we not hear who Queen Clarisse might have married had she been required to do so?" asked Lord Jerome. 

Sebastian smiled and said, indicating the doors which were opening, "Your Majesty, gentlemen, this man had presented himself as a suitor for Queen Clarisse's hand before this requirement was repealed, and she has shown no objection. On the contrary, from what I was privileged to view last night, I do believe ..."

The members of Parliament all turned in their seats to see who was coming in. Seeing Joseph smiling at her from the door, Clarisse stood up, unable to stay in her seat.

Speaking quickly, Sebastian said, "Joseph Elizondo has won Queen Clarisse's hand and heart." 

In the uncharacteristic yet complete silence that descended upon Parliament, Clarisse broke her "don't ever hurry" rule and ran to the man she loved. He caught her in his arms and gave her a hard kiss before facing the now smiling men seated around the room. "I am here before you, not only because the honourable Prime Minister has convinced me that it is my duty but because I love Queen Clarisse more than I ever believed possible to love another human being. I would ask for your approval, but frankly, since I obviously have Queen Clarisse's approval and since you've abolished that requirement, I simply ask for your attendance at our wedding tomorrow and for your support in our future life together ..." His words were drowned out by the applause.

Smiling and glowing with happiness, Clarisse heard a squeal of joy from high up, and knew that Charlotte was watching from the secret passageway. Then Joseph's lips were on hers again, and nothing else mattered, knowing that she would be marrying her love on the morrow! This would be a marriage arranged in heaven, supported by the country and eagerly anticipated by Joseph and his Queen!


	10. Part Ten

Part Ten 

"I know it's not a good time to ask, but I really would like for Mia ... and Helen ... to be here for our wedding." Clarisse was saying to Joseph as Sebastian Motaz came up to them at the end of the long line of members of Parliament stopping to wish them all the best. 

Sebastian grinned. "My wife and Charlotte have that matter well in hand. I do believe Genovia One will have just landed, with Princess Mia and her mother on board." 

"REALLY?" Clarisse looked delighted. 

"Joseph did most of the arranging before he came home." Sebastian said. 

"Yes. Actually, I spoke with the principal of her school ... Gupta, I believe, was the name? She was absolutely overwhelmed and delighted to do something for the queen who had graced her school a few short weeks ago and had complimented her so effusively on her skills as an educator ..." Joseph rolled his eyes. "At any rate, she agreed that it was imperative for the princess to attend her grandmother's wedding, and conceded that it would be possible, even this late in the school year, to miss one day. But Princess Mia will have to return to California on Sunday to finish her last few weeks. " 

"Oh, JOSEPH!" Clarisse threw her arms around his neck and kissed him again. Then she drew away, "I'm sorry. I'm not usually so demonstrative, but I'm just ... just so emotional ..." 

Both men smiled understandingly at her. Then Charlotte came up to them, beaming. "Congratulations, your Majesty, Joseph. I'm SO happy for you both." 

Clarisse hesitated only an instant before hugging a rather surprised Charlotte tightly. "Thank you, my dear," she whispered. "For everything. You are all I could have wanted in a daughter." 

Charlotte blinked back her tears and tried to smile as Clarisse released her. "Thank YOU for everything," she managed to say huskily. "I hope all my surprises are met with the same enthusiasm." 

Arching an eyebrow, Clarisse repeated, "ALL your surprises? You mean, there are more?" 

Now Charlotte's smile turned mischievous, although a trace of anxiety was still present in her eyes. "I'm afraid so, your Majesty." Before Clarisse could question her further, Charlotte obviously got a message on her headset. "Your Majesty, the Princess' car has just turned in the gates." 

For a few moments there was pandemonium as Mia, Helen and Sheila Motaz entered the palace to meet Clarisse, Joseph, Charlotte and Sebastian. 

"Grandma, I just can't BELIEVE you're getting married tomorrow!" Mia squealed, hugging Clarisse. "Who are you marrying? Mrs. Motaz didn't know. She just said that Parliament was deciding today." 

"Actually," Clarisse said, "Parliament agreed that I didn't HAVE to marry anyone." 

"WHAT?" Mia's face dropped. "Oh, man, what am I gonna tell everyone when I get home? They all think I'm coming to a big, fancy, royal wedding this weekend!" 

Helen eyed Clarisse, then said carefully, "You're NOT getting married?" 

Charlotte smothered a giggle, and Sheila, who had a puzzled look on her face, frowned at her husband. "I THOUGHT it had all been arranged!" 

"It has." Sebastian grinned. "To everyone's complete satisfaction." 

"That's right." Joseph stepped closer to Clarisse and put his arm around her shoulders. 

Mia's jaw dropped. "JOE?" 

"Yes, Mia, I'm marrying Joseph. Not because I HAVE to," and Clarisse's smile was tender as she looked at Joseph, "but because I WANT to." 

Once she was over the initial shock, Mia squealed loudly, causing Clarisse to clap her hands over her ears with a smile. Then Mia began to bounce. "This is great, this is so great! Grandma, can I be your maid of honour? I've never been one, before! I brought a really nice dress that Mom bought for me yesterday! Oh, and you probably shouldn't say you don't HAVE to get married, not in that way, 'cause it sounds a little weird and like you're saying you're not pregnant or anything ... you're not, are you? I mean, I guess I'd understand if you were, since Joe's so wickedly awesome, but I don't think it's queen-y thing to do, you know? But then, you know better. So, are you? Preggers, I mean! Since you're getting married in such a hurry, Lilly and I kinda wondered, you know?" 

"AMELIA!" Helen gasped. Charlotte almost choked when she saw the expression on Clarisse's face, and she and Sheila had to turn away and stare fixedly at a wall. 

Mia put her hand over her mouth. "Oops," she said, apologetically. "Sorry. None of my business." 

"I would hope medically impossible as well, at my age," Clarisse said dryly. 

Joseph chuckled. "But I thank you for the compliment, Princess." 

"Hey, you can just call me Mia, now, Grandpa," Mia grinned at Joseph's reaction to her name for him. "Well, it's better than Joey, isn't it? I gotta tell you, Grandma, this is so awesome that you're marrying Joe! Lilly's gonna croak when she hears! She said something last week about you two dancing at the ball. I didn't notice, I'm afraid." 

"No, I believe you only saw your young man that night," Sebastian Motaz said. "Your highness," and he bowed formally to Mia. "Sebastian Motaz, the Prime Minister." 

"Oh, right. Yeah, I remember. Hi. I mean, umm, hello," Mia smiled shyly. "I remembered your wife, too. Thanks for meeting us at the airport, Mrs. Motaz. Hi, Charlotte!" 

"Princess Mia, Mrs. Thermopolis," Charlotte, now that she had her emotions under control, was the epitome of politeness. "I trust your trip was uneventful?" 

"Yes, thank you," Helen said, still clearly overwhelmed by everything. 

"Your plane is awesome, Grandma!" Mia added. "But I tripped on the steps going up. Good thing it wasn't coming down. That would have been really embarrassing, to land flat on my face the first time I come to Genovia! If you let me be your maid of honour, I'll try not to trip going up the aisle." 

"Mia, please!" Helen almost moaned. 

"It's all right, Helen," Clarisse soothed her. "Yes, Mia, you may be my maid of honour." 

"Oh, THANK YOU, Grandma!" Mia hugged Clarisse tightly, and Clarisse rather awkwardly returned the embrace. Then Mia pulled back and said, "Hey, Grandma, are you and Joe having a wedding rehearsal?" 

"No, I don't think so, Mia. We are meeting with the Archbishop this afternoon, I believe." 

"Yes, your Majesty. At 4:00. Oh, and the seamstresses are here and want to meet with you immediately so they can get to work on your wedding dress." Charlotte said, efficiently consulting her clipboard. 

"Cool ... a real wedding dress?" Mia asked. 

"Well, it will be a real wedding, Mia," Clarisse said with a smile. "But I doubt it will be a traditional long, white wedding dress." 

"Why?" 

"It's not usually done, Mia," Helen said. "Will you be quiet for a moment so we can hear the rest of the plans, please?" 

"Oh, sorry!" Mia covered her mouth again, blushing. 

"We are planning to have a gathering tonight, your Majesty," Sheila said, "for a bridal shower." 

"Oh, but ..." 

"It's already organized, your Majesty," Charlotte interrupted Clarisse. "They'll all be here at eight." 

"Yes, and Mom and I brought some great gifts!" Mia couldn't resist. "Just wait till you see!" 

"Another of your surprises?" Clarisse asked Charlotte, who smiled. 

"Well, not mine this time, actually. I believe it was Mrs. Motaz who got the idea when speaking with Lady Palimore and Lady Jerome." 

"Yes, the ladies started planning the shower two days ago," Sheila confessed. "It was meant as, well, as a bit of a ... consolation, you might say. That was when we didn't know who you would be marrying, and we thought it would be someone like ... well, someone who you didn't love ..." her voice trailed off and her face flushed a little. "Anyway, now we can REALLY have a party since you're marrying Joseph! That's who WE thought you should marry, since he has loved you for so long!" 

"Obviously my feelings were more than obvious to the entire country," Joseph observed a little darkly. 

"Except me," Clarisse put her hand on his cheek and smiled lovingly at him. "Until you came back from America for me. Oh, and maybe a bit IN America!" 

Mia made a face. "Okay, don't go all mushy, you two!" 

The adults all laughed. Then Charlotte said, "I'm sorry, your Majesty, but the seamstresses are waiting in your suite. I'll show the princess and her mother to their rooms." 

"Yeah, we have to get out the presents we brought for you, Grandma ... and Grandpa!" 

Joseph winced dramatically, and Mia stuck out her tongue and laughed. 

"We'll see you tonight," Sheila and Sebastian took their leave until the evening's festivities. 

Clarisse, still exhilarated at the outcome of the Parliament session, the knowledge that she WAS going to marry Joseph, and the unexpected arrival of her grand-daughter, could hardly concentrate on what the seamstresses were saying. However, she was still very firm in the sort of dresses that suited her and which colours she wanted, and since this was a wedding she was very much looking forward to, she truly wanted a wedding dress to remember. She also determined that NO ONE would see the dress before the following day. Following the meeting, she made a point of telling Charlotte that when the seamstresses needed her for a fitting, she was to be called immediately, and no one else was to be with her. 

"Very well, your Majesty. Oh, and the Archbishop has arrived and is presently with Joseph in the library." 

"Thank you, Charlotte. Oh, Charlotte, you ARE coming tonight to the ... bridal shower, are you not?" 

"I have some duties there, of course," Charlotte said, sounding a little puzzled. "You know I attend most functions here, just in case you need me ..." 

Clarisse impulsively took Charlotte's hand and squeezed it. "I need you tonight ... as a friend, not just as my personal assistant." 

Charlotte's face flushed slightly, but she looked pleased. "I'd be pleased to attend as your ... friend, your Majesty." 

"And perhaps we might dispense with the 'your Majesty' and you address me simply as Clarisse? Especially when we are alone?" 

"I ... I'll try, your ... umm, Clarisse," Charlotte stammered, looking a little overwhelmed. 

"Thank you. And now I'm ready to meet with the Archbishop." As they made their way down the hallways to the library, Clarisse asked, "How many more surprises DO you have, Charlotte?" 

"At least one," Charlotte looked a little apprehensive again. "And that one should be coming up shortly." 

Clarisse stopped walking. "In the library?" 

"Oh, no," Charlotte assured her. "No, nothing to do with your meeting with the Archbishop." 

"Very well," Clarisse began to move again, and moments later swept into the library. Charlotte followed and sat to one side, ready to take notes as necessary. 

. 

As they began to discuss the ceremony, Clarisse allowed herself to mention the wedding she had always dreamed of. "I WISH we could just have a simple ceremony with just a few people in attendance ... preferably out in the gazebo in the garden, surrounded by the flowers ..." she said wistfully at last. Joseph nodded his agreement emphatically. 

The Archbishop looked sympathetic. "That WOULD be lovely, your Majesty, Joseph, but I fear most of Genovia will want to be in attendance. However, we could certainly bring the flowers into the church, and have your special attendants be the only ones close in the chancel, so that you may IMAGINE that you are in the gazebo with just a select group of witnesses!" 

"Who shall we have up there?" Joseph looked at Clarisse. 

"Mia wants to be my maid of honour. Who will be your best man?" Clarisse asked. 

"I am the best man, of course," Joseph said arrogantly, softening his statement with a broad grin. "But I asked Sebastian Motaz to stand up with me, as I have no family or other very close friends." 

"Mia is too young to sign the marriage forms as a witness ... we should perhaps have Sheila Motaz and Charlotte to be our signing witnesses." Clarisse looked over at Charlotte. "Would you be willing, Charlotte?" 

"I ... I'd be flattered, your Majesty!" Charlotte had almost dropped her pad in her surprise. "If you are sure ...?" 

"Then we will have all the people we need or want with us," Clarisse smiled. "Sheila and Charlotte and Helen can be up with us to one side." 

The Archbishop cleared his throat pointedly. "Prince Pierre?" he asked, pointedly. 

Clarisse bit her lip, then quite uncharacteristically stammered as she tried to speak. "Oh. Oh, dear. I ... I haven't ... talked with him for a long time, my Lord Archbishop. I don't know ..." 

Charlotte held her hand up to her earphone suddenly as she listened to a message, then looked over at Clarisse, a contrite look on her face as if pleading for understanding. "Your Majesty, Prince Pierre's car has just entered the palace gates. I ... took the liberty of calling him and informing him of your upcoming marriage and your request for his presence ..." 

Joseph put his hand over Clarisse's as she froze, staring at Charlotte. The Archbishop, not being overly perceptive that afternoon, did not notice the queen's demeanor and beamed at them all. "Well, then, this is perfect! Prince Pierre will be able to officiate at your wedding with me, your Majesty!" 

"He was delighted to have been asked, your Majesty," Charlotte said in a small voice, "although he was most concerned for your happiness. I'm sure he will be happy to hear you are marrying Joseph and not ... Please, your Majesty, forgive me if I have erred ..." 

When Joseph squeezed her hand, Clarisse seemed to come out of her trance. "This is one of your other surprises," she said to Charlotte in a curiously flat voice. 

"Yes, your Majesty," Charlotte whispered, her face going white. What had she done? Had she broken an unspoken rule or ...? 

Clarisse rose. "My Lord Archbishop, might I be excused for a moment?" 

"Of course!" 

Joseph stood up beside Clarisse. "Shall I come with you?" he asked gently, knowing where she was going. 

Clarisse tried to smile. "Please." 

As the two left the room, Joseph looked back and shook his head at Charlotte slightly as she was preparing to follow. His smile seemed to reassure the young woman somewhat, but she subsided into her chair unhappily all the same. 

Reaching the foyer just as Pierre came through the doors, Clarisse drank in the sight of her estranged son. She felt Joseph's hand on the small of her back, and gladly accepted his silent support. She was inwardly terrified that Pierre would reject her again, although it didn't seem possible if he had come in answer to Charlotte's call. Clarisse found herself hoping fervently that the rift between them could be closed forever. Pierre's eyes fell on them, and he stopped for a moment and studied his mother solemnly. Then, obviously detecting the welcoming light in her eyes, he hurried forward and embraced her. "Mother!" 

Clarisse couldn't help the tears from falling as she clung to him. "Oh, Pierre, darling, I'm SO glad you have come!" 

"How could I not?" He released her, and teased, "You don't look all that happy to see me! What's with the tears?" 

"Tears of happiness. I've ... missed you, and I never really realized it." Clarisse said. 

"I thought you weren't ready to forgive me," he said quietly. 

"Pierre, I love you. What makes YOU happy, makes ME happy. It was your father ..." Clarisse broke off. She hadn't meant to say so much. Their separation had been as much her fault as Rupert's, as she had been too proud to be the one to make the first step after Rupert's death. 

Pierre's eyes, eyes so like her own, met hers, and she read understanding in them: understanding and forgiveness and a deep, abiding love. "So, I'm to get a stepfather, Charlotte tells me. May I know his name?" Pierre asked lightly. 

Clarisse tensed slightly, but Joseph smiled and forestalled her answer as he stepped up to Pierre and held out his hand. "Joseph Elizondo," he said. 

"Joe!" Pierre's eyes, so like his mother's, widened in surprise. Then a broad smile lit his face and he grabbed at Joseph's hand. "Really? REALLY? I thought you were just with Mother as usual ... as the Head of Security! Joe, Mother, I couldn't have heard better news!" 

Joseph felt Clarisse's relief just as a slight tremor, but she revealed nothing else. Instead, she tucked her arm in her son's, and said, "Come with us to the library. Charlotte and the Archbishop are there, and we're making plans for the ceremony. Will you take part in it?" 

"I'd be honoured, Mother, and most delighted!" he assured her. "And Joe, congratulations! I'm glad your dream finally came true for you." 

Clarisse stopped in her tracks and stared at Pierre. "Don't tell me YOU knew all along that Joseph loved me, too?" 

"Mother, I am quite convinced that it would very hard to find one single person in Genovia who has not known Joe's feelings for you for YEARS!" Pierre said, hugging his mother and clapping Joseph on the shoulder. 

"I never knew I was an open book to so many people," Joseph grumbled, good-naturedly. "I HAD thought I was mysterious and inscrutable ..." 

"With everything else, perhaps, but not when it came to Mother!" laughed Pierre. 

They went into the library, and Clarisse's eyes immediately went to Charlotte who was sitting tensely on the edge of her seat awaiting their return. Clarisse dropped Pierre's arm and, with an apologetic look at the Archbishop, went directly to Charlotte and, clasping Charlotte's cold hands in her own, whispered, "I have more cause to thank you now than ever before, Charlotte! Thank you for giving me back my son!" Inwardly she vowed that she would continue Philippe's quest to find Charlotte's lost son for her. 

Before Charlotte could respond to her, Clarisse returned to Pierre and Joseph, sitting between them on the sofa. Then Clarisse beamed at the Archbishop. "My Lord Archbishop, I believe we have a wedding ceremony to plan!" 

"FINALLY!" was his heartfelt response. 

O o O o O o O o 

That evening, the members of Parliament and their wives gathered in the ball room for the bridal shower. The guests had all been instructed by Charlotte to come dressed in casual clothes, and Clarisse had welcomed the news and was wearing a simple but elegant pant suit. Mia had asked quietly why she wasn't wearing a crown, or at the very least a tiara, saying Clarisse looked so wonderful in one. Clarisse had smiled. "I am glad to leave it off, as this is one of the few occasions I don't need to keep up my image, as it were." Clarisse and Joseph were ushered to seats of honour, with Mia and her mother by Clarisse's side. In spite of the short notice, there were piles of presents pouring in from all over Genovia. Charlotte informed Clarisse that she had arranged to have most of them opened by a couple of the maids the day after the wedding, but that Clarisse and Joseph were to open the ones from the invited guests themselves that evening 

Sheila Motaz handed Clarisse the first present, which turned out to be an embossed pad and pen, saying, "What DOES one give a queen for her wedding when she has everything she needs or wants? So here is a pad and pen so that you can have someone keep an inventory of your presents!" 

Everyone laughed. Charlotte automatically took the pen and pad, and began to write down the gifts as Clarisse and Joseph opened them. Sheila Motaz passed the couple the next presents and took the opened ones to have passed around for everyone to see. There were delicate Genovian lace hankies and table-toppers, as well as some beautifully embroidered hankies. There were books for newlyweds, no two alike. There were jewellery boxes and picture frames. The tears came to Clarisse's eyes, however, when she opened a large card which all the guests present had signed ... offering invitations to dinners and parties for Clarisse and Joseph as a couple, proof that Joseph had been accepted unconditionally into the high society of Genovia. 

Laughter erupted again as box after box revealed sexy, revealing lingerie. 

"Lighten up, Grandma!" Mia whispered to a rather embarrassed Clarisse. "This is funny, you've got to admit!" 

Charlotte gave Clarisse a beautiful new diary with the Genovian crest on half of the cover and curving around the side and back. A bright sun was peeking over the crest on the front, with the words "The dawning of a new day" beneath. Charlotte had written on the first page, "I hope this serves as a symbol of a whole new life ahead for you!" 

"This is beautiful, Charlotte!" Clarisse said, amid the agreement of the others. "Thank you so much." 

"You write in a diary, too, Grandma?" Mia asked. 

"I most certainly do," replied Clarisse. 

There was an envelope from the most elegant resort in the seaside village of Mertz with a week's reservations for the bridal suite, located in the penthouse of the hotel. Complete room service was complimentary. The dates on it started the following day, but a handwritten note said the dates were subject to change as the queen's schedule dictated. 

"That will be lovely," Lady Palimore said sincerely, and the others nodded. 

Another envelope from the maids and the housekeeping staff promised the happy couple a week of privacy, where no one would approach them unless expressly summoned. A small box from the laundry staff contained numerous bottles, all neatly labelled. Liniment, body lotion, bath oil ... then Clarisse's eyes widened and her smile faded as she read some of the other labels, stating that the contents were to be smeared on the partner's body and licked off, promising no stains to clothing if thoroughly cleaned by the tongue. Edible his and hers underwear was included "for fun", according to the label. 

Much laughter greeted these gifts, as well as loud comments from some of the men, and Clarisse, her cheeks fiery red, murmured, "Oh MY!" to Joseph. 

Mia and Helen had given Clarisse a large box which Charlotte now placed before her. Opening it carefully, Clarisse drew out the item on top -- a burgundy silk dress with spaghetti straps, a fitted bodice and an asymmetrical skirt falling in diagonal lines from knee length in the front to ankle length in the back. The next item was a hip-length, long-sleeved jacket of the same rich burgundy material. "It's ... lovely," Clarisse said, and the other women agreed enthusiastically. 

"It might be a little young for you," admitted Mia, "but it's gorgeous and SO stylish, and you don't look anywhere near your age anyway. Charlotte gave Mom your measurements, so it SHOULD fit." 

"Another surprise?" Clarisse murmured to Charlotte who grinned and nodded. 

Underneath the dress and jacket were the underclothes, also in burgundy. There were shrieks of laughter as a very red Clarisse held up a silky burgundy half slip with a slit almost up to the waist, a burgundy lace garter belt, filmy burgundy stockings, a very skimpy, strapless burgundy lace 'push-up' bra, and matching daring lace panties "with no crotch!" Mia whispered to Joseph and Clarisse mischievously,. Delicate strapped burgundy high heels shoes were also included. 

"Lovely choice, your Highness, and you, Mrs. Thermopolis!" Sheila Motaz nodded in satisfaction. "You're right, it will look lovely on the queen. You can wear it tomorrow as your going away outfit!" 

"There's more in the box," volunteered Helen, with a faint smile on her face. 

Clarisse dug further, and unearthed boxes of PG Tips tea bags as well as two large cups similar to those Helen and Mia used in San Francisco. 

"We cleaned out the one store," Mia chuckled. "Charlotte said you loved this tea, and that she had to order some for you, so we brought all we could find. AND we brought you a couple of cups because Joe probably isn't into those fancy little teacups. Most guys hate them 'cause they can't hold onto them." 

"You are right about THAT!" Joseph agreed. 

"Thank you," Clarisse said simply, her eyes shimmering with gratitude. Then she added softly, "I would also be honoured to have one of your paintings sometime, Helen." 

"REALLY?" Helen's eyes widened. "I ... I'll bring one when we come back in a few weeks. If you're sure, that is." 

"I'm sure." 

Another parcel revealed a mahogany medicine chest with daily pill holders on the top. Inside the chest were a number of bottles. Clarisse began to take them out and read them, Joseph leaning closer to read the labels with her. She found gingko, recommended for older women to increase their stamina. There was ginseng for both and the label read "Ginseng is believed to enhance physical and mental endurance, increase energy, reduce cholesterol, to support adrenal function, to reduce stress and regulate blood sugar. Russian folklore promotes ginseng as a stimulant." There was a tube of aloe, which stated it was an analgesic, used to treat burns and other skin conditions such as scrapes, sunburns and insect bites, or rubbing from beards on tender skin. There was a package of licorice, and the note attached to it said that licorice acts as a sexual stimulant; helps increase endurance & vitality; helps in reducing skin blemishes such as age spots. There was also a bottle of little blue candies with a handwritten label saying it was Viagra for Joseph. At the very bottom of the medicine chest was a typed note: "Best wishes from Charlotte." 

Clarisse's eyebrows arched and she turned to Charlotte. "Thank you, Charlotte. I think." 

Charlotte's head shot up and she looked confused. "Thank you? For what?" 

"This medicine chest. It is JUST what we need." Clarisse allowed a trace of sarcasm to come through. 

The others laughed again, but Charlotte frowned. "I didn't give you that." 

"The note says you did," Clarisse showed her. 

Charlotte was flabbergasted and her face was scarlet. "But ... but I DIDN'T give it to you!" 

Now Mia could no longer contain herself. "I couldn't resist, Grandma! I got it all, and thought it would be funny to say it was from Charlotte." 

The final gift was from the security team. Clarisse passed it to Joseph to open, reflecting that chances were good that this present, like the one from the laundry staff, would be something rather cheeky. Sure enough, when he opened it, it was to find matching sweaters carefully labelled on the back in fancy embroidery 'His' and 'Hers'. When he held them up, it was discovered that the two were knit together so that when worn, Joseph's left arm would be around Clarisse's waist, and her right arm would be around his waist. Amid calls to try them on, both slipped off their jackets and pulled the sweaters over their heads. After awkwardly manoeuvring to fit their adjoining arms into the sleeves attached to the backs of the other sweaters, Clarisse was startled to discover that her right hand was curled over Joseph's right hip, UNDER the sweater. She could feel the warmth of his hand on her left hip, his thumb gently stroking her. There was no hole for those hands to emerge from the sleeve OUTSIDE the sweater. 

"I DO like these sweaters, or should I say it in the singular?" Joseph inquired. "It appears to be just one big sweater!" Again gales of laughter echoed through the ballroom and calls to try it on. 

At the end of the evening, still wearing the sweater from the security team and therefore keeping their arms around each other, Joseph and Clarisse thanked everyone for attending and said goodbye at the door. As Sebastian and Sheila Motaz left last, the bridal couple asked for Sheila's participation in the ceremony the following day, and she was delighted to agree. Watching them leave, Clarisse leaned her head on Joseph's shoulder, and said dreamily, "I can't recall ever being so happy in my life, Joseph." 

Bringing her around fully into his arms, Joseph whispered, "My love ... my queen," Then he covered her mouth and kissed her until she felt herself dissolve right into him, and felt all his magnificent control begin to disappear as his body shook with the intensity of his desire. Clarisse felt an explosion of feeling, a conflagration of brilliant excitement that sent thrills to every part of her being. She strained closer still. 

"WHHOOOO HOOO! Look at Grandma and Joe!" Mia's voice was loud, penetrating the daze Clarisse and Joseph had found themselves in. 

"Break it up, you two," Pierre grinned, coming up behind his niece. "The wedding's just tomorrow -- you don't have that long to wait!" 

"Besides," Helen stepped up as well, "it's almost midnight. You aren't to see each other before the wedding." 

"Almost midnight?" Joseph inquired. "How close?" 

"Seven minutes," Charlotte inserted, trying to keep her smile hidden as she looked at the two wrapped in each other's arms. 

"Then give us that time, please," and Joseph deliberately turned away, bringing Clarisse close again and kissing her lightly. 

"Oh, all right," Mia grumbled. "I guess we can help Charlotte clear up." 

"Charlotte's not clearing up," Helen said, taking the tray from Charlotte's hands in spite of the slight resistance. "This will ALL keep until morning. Come on, it's bedtime." 

"But ..." Mia and Charlotte both protested at once. Helen laughed. Then Charlotte continued, "Her Majesty has another fitting in an hour for her wedding dress. I have to stay up until then." 

"Can we stay with them, Mom? Please?" Mia begged. 

Clarisse didn't hear Mia's answer as Joseph led her outside to ensure a bit of privacy. After the tension of the past few days, not to mention the preceding weeks in San Francisco, Clarisse's composure was all but shattered. Yet now that she was with Joseph, everything seemed to be perfect, and she relaxed completely in his arms. They spent the few precious moments they had remaining this evening whispering words of love and hope for the future, both still finding it very hard to believe that they were getting married the next day. Then Pierre was calling them back in, and after Joseph and Clarisse had struggled out of the sweater with a great deal of laughter and teasing, Pierre led Joseph away while Charlotte, Mia and Helen escorted Clarisse to her suite. 

"You know," said Mia, as they walked, "we had to study something about love last term. It was, umm, Sternberg's triangular theory of love. There are three parts to love: passion, intimacy, and decision or commitment. He said you can have one, two or three parts, and there's different names which I can't remember. But he said lots of couples have intimacy and commitment but no passion -- and lots of OLDER couples grow to that one. The best, of course, is all three. I think it's called consummate love. Just the two is companionate love or compassionate love or something like that. Somehow, after seeing you and Joe tonight, Grandma, I don't think you have to worry. I'd say you definitely have all three!" 

Clarisse felt her face warm, but she smiled anyway. "I think perhaps we do." She pondered Mia's words for a moment, acknowledging that she and Rupert had had intimacy and commitment but no passion, and as Mia had just said, having all three was definitely the best ... consummate love, indeed! She hoped for and indeed EXPECTED consummate love with Joseph. 

Then Mia was on another topic. "Hey, you guys, who would you most like to be stranded on a desert island with?" 

They all stared at her. 

"You know, it's a game. If you were stranded on a desert island and could have only one other person with you, who would you like it to be? I'll go first. Except I have too many to decide. Lilly and I like someone different every day, it seems! I mean, there's Ewan McGregor, Heath Ledger, Leo DiCaprio, Johnny Depp, Brad Pitt, Ryan Phillippe, Will Smith ... but I'd say today my top choice by far is Orlando Bloom. He's a DEFINITE go!" 

"WHO?" the others stared at her. 

"Oh, he's in the new Lord of the Rings movie coming out in a few months. He's something else ..." Mia sighed dreamily. "Lilly and I have just seen some posters and commercials and stuff, but WOW, he's hot! So, how about you, Charlotte?" 

"Oh! Well, ummm ... hmmm. You gave a list, so I will, too. Let's see. There's Hugh Grant, Colin Firth, Russell Crowe, Johnny Depp, Jude Law and even George Clooney! Umm, Mel Gibson, Harrison Ford, Liam Neeson, Jimmy Smits, yes, and Brad Pitt ..." 

"I rather like some of the older men," Helen grinned. "Like Sean Connery, Sam Neill, Patrick Stewart, Richard Dean Anderson, Martin Landau, Roy Scheider, Cary Grant, Gary Cooper, Jimmy Stewart, Gregory Peck." 

"Oh, I forgot about them!" Charlotte exclaimed. "Yes, indeed!" 

"Grandma?" Mia looked at Clarisse. 

She smiled. Not having time to watch many movies at all, she hardly knew any of the names the other three had mentioned. Oh, some, of course, but not many. "Joseph," was her response. 

"GRANDMA! A MOVIE star!" Mia said. 

"Oh, all right." Clarisse cast her mind around trying to think of one. "Ummm ... Yul Brynner!" 

"WHO?" Mia asked. Helen and Charlotte laughed. 

"He was in the movie 'The King and I'," Helen explained. 

"Yes, that was one of the few movies Rupert and I saw together. I thought Yul Brynner was quite ... sexy." Clarisse said, smiling slightly as she deliberately shocked the others with her language. 

Helen recovered first, and teased in return, "So that's why you were attracted to Joe -- because they're both bald?" 

"You know, I must admit, I had never thought of that!" 

They came to the corner where Clarisse's suite was one direction and Mia and Helen were in the other. Mia hugged her grandmother tightly. "Oh, Grandma, I am SO, SO glad you are going to marry Joe! And you looked so beautiful tonight, and so elegant and composed, even when you must have been totally embarrassed by some of the gifts and the comments. Do you think I'll EVER learn to be a proper princess or queen? You always seem to do the right thing, and I always mess up. Haven't you EVER done anything improper? Something that if anyone caught you at it, they'd be totally scandalized?" 

Clarisse glanced at Charlotte as she fought to keep from blushing, thinking of that very morning. The two both grinned at each other, but said nothing. 

"Well," Helen said, "I don't know about anyone else, but I am exhausted after the flight. Come, Mia, we're going to bed so we can be ready for the wedding tomorrow morning. Thank you for arranging everything so we could come, Charlotte. Good night, your Majesty, and again, I'm so happy for you!" 

"Thank you, Helen. It's very gracious of you. And Mia, I am delighted you are here and are to be my maid of honour!" 

Helen and Mia disappeared down the corridor. Charlotte turned to Clarisse after glancing at her watch and said, "Your Majesty, remember that your fitting for your wedding dress is in ten minutes." 

"Come in and wait with me, please?" Clarisse requested. They walked the last few steps to the suite and the doorman opened the door for them. 

Inside, Clarisse took Charlotte's hands again. "I need to thank you again, Charlotte, for everything you have done the last few days for me." 

"Oh, really, it's my job, your Majesty!" Charlotte squeezed her hands a little. 

"Please, Charlotte, remember to call me Clarisse." 

It was Charlotte's turn to redden. "I'm sorry, your ... umm, Clarisse. It's just ... hard. But I will try." 

"That's all I ask." 

After studying Clarisse for a brief second, noting that the queen appeared to be succumbing to exhaustion, Charlotte said quietly, "You need to rest, Clarisse, or you will collapse tomorrow," Then her grin popped out. "and that's the very LAST thing needed on your wedding day, OR your wedding night! I'll make sure the seamstresses don't keep you very long." 

"Thank you. I think I'll just get into my night things ..." 

In no time, the seamstresses had appeared and fitted the wedding dress for the last time while Charlotte waited out in the hallway. As soon as they finished, they whisked out the door. Charlotte poked her head back in. "Good night, Clarisse," she said, softly. "Sleep well, and sweet dreams." 

"I will have, Charlotte, believe me!" Clarisse smiled sleepily. "Good night, my dear." 

To be Continued ... 

_A/N: Many thanks to all who helped me with ideas for this part -- the gifts, the going-away dress, the "desert island idols", etc.!_


	11. Part Eleven FINAL

Part Eleven

Clarisse rolled over in bed, throwing her arm up to ward off the rising sun streaming in the window. She must have forgotten to close the curtains the night before. Then she sat up, her heart thudding. Today was her wedding day! She was marrying Joseph! Unable to stay in bed in spite of the early hour, Clarisse got up and dressed. She would take Maurice out for his morning run. Emerging from her bedroom with the leash in hand, she was startled to find Olivia just coming in to her suite.

"Your Majesty!" Olivia gasped, looking at Clarisse and the lease. "What are you doing up so early?"

Smiling faintly, Clarisse said, "I couldn't sleep. I'm going to take Maurice out."

"Oh, but, your Majesty, you cannot be seen before the wedding! It's ... it's bad luck!" Olivia protested.

"Nonsense," Clarisse chuckled as she tried to put the lease on the puppy bouncing around her feet. The dog reminded her at that point of her grand-daughter! "It's not as if it's my first wedding. Besides, I'm not wearing my wedding dress."

"But ..."

"I won't be long, Olivia," and Clarisse made good her escape.

She idly followed Maurice as he sniffed at every flower and blade of grass. Eventually they ended up near the gazebo. Clarisse's eyes sharpened as she caught a glimpse of a figure on the other side, and for a moment she froze. Then, when Maurice yipped at the suddenness of her stop which tightened the collar around his neck, the figure came closer and Clarisse realized it was Joseph.

"You're up early!" she called out.

"Who could stay in bed on such a glorious day?" Joseph laughed.

They met in the gazebo and his lips were on hers. Clarisse dropped the leash and wound her arms around Joseph as she kissed him back fervently. "It IS a glorious day!" she admitted when she came up for air. "I hadn't really realized it, but now I know I must have been hoping you would be out here. Oh, Joseph, all night I kept having horrible dreams that Parliament had reversed its decision and refused to allow us to marry! I don't know what I would do if I lost you now ..."

"Relax, my love." Joseph held her close and added, "Clarisse, my darling, whatever Parliament might have said in the past or what it might say in the future, we were meant to be together. I committed to loving you long ago, and you fulfilled my dreams when you realized that you felt the same about me. With our wedding, we are going to celebrate our joint commitment to loving one another fully, completely, and as deeply we know how. It's a living commitment, reaffirmed each time we reach out to one another in pure joy, each time one of us is there to support or comfort the other, each time we share a newly uncovered insight or emotion. It is a commitment continually rediscovered as each day we become aware of how much love our hearts are capable of giving."

"Joseph, you're making me cry!" Clarisse protested. "Oh, I love you so much!"

His hand touched the tears sliding down her cheeks, brushing them away lightly. She felt him clasp a necklace around her neck as he whispered, "Just a little bridal gift ... Charlotte was supposed to send you out here later, but I'm glad you're early."

Before Clarisse could ask about the necklace, his hand continued to smooth down her neck and her throat. She promptly forgot everything as she revelled in his touch. Joseph rubbed her lips with his and nipped softly, teasing her with sensuous kisses that drove her crazy. Rupert had never aroused her as Joseph had. Clarisse's breathing quickened and her hands clutched his arms to keep her balance when her legs didn't want to hold her upright. "Joseph!" she gasped.

Joseph slid his hands around her back and clasped them as he held her close, willing their hearts to slow and cease the intense pounding. But before he could say anything, they were interrupted.

"Your Majesty? Joseph?"

Joseph's laugh was wry as Charlotte's voice was heard calling them. In a few moments, Charlotte was coming down the stairs and hurrying along the path to the gazebo.

"Your Majesty? Oh, there you are!" Charlotte said breathlessly. "I'm sorry, but ... Olivia sent me out to fetch you. Your bath is ready and she was worried about you being seen."

Clarisse sighed, then forced herself to step out of Joseph's arms. "Pretend you didn't see me, Joseph," she whispered, touching his cheek gently with her hand as she smiled at him. "All right, Charlotte, I'm ready to return. Oh, where's ...?" Just then, Maurice came racing up to dance around her feet. Clarisse chuckled. "WE are ready to return!"

"I'll see you later, Clarisse ... Charlotte." Joseph watched in amusement as Charlotte nodded distractedly and ushered the queen and the puppy back to the privacy of their suite.

Standing in the bathroom where Olivia had filled the tub and added scented oils, Clarisse looked in her mirror at her recently-kissed lips, soft eyes, and less-than-perfect hair. Oh yes, she looked and felt well loved! It was hard not to feel like a girl again in Joseph's arms. He never spoke of her figure which was not as slim as it once had been, or the faint wrinkles around her eyes. Instead, he made her feel completely and utterly beautiful. For the first time, Clarisse found herself looking forward to this wedding, knowing that the marriage which followed would far surpass any joyous dreams she had ever had. She touched the yellow topaz choker Joseph had given her, loving it and knowing that it would perfectly complement her wedding dress.

When she had finished bathing, Clarisse emerged to find that Olivia had laid out her lingerie. Her wedding dress was hanging close, ready to be put on after her hair had been styled. As she put on a robe, Clarisse could hear Olivia and Priscilla moving about the sitting room, talking quietly. Tying the belt, she opened her bedroom door and announced that she was ready for her hair to be done.

Priscilla had a breakfast tray ready which Clarisse could only pick at while the two maids did her hair. Then her dress was put on and she was swathed in a protective sheet while her makeup was done. When they were almost finished, there was a knock on the door. Olivia opened the door a crack, and Mia pushed in unceremoniously.

"Grandma? Grandma, is this ...?" She stopped and gaped at Clarisse.

"Good morning, Mia," Clarisse said, composedly.

"Grandma, you look GORGEOUS!"

"In a sheet?" Priscilla muttered under her breath as she put the finishing touches on Clarisse's makeup.

"Thank you, Mia. You look lovely too." Clarisse replied. "Except for your hair, of course. You WERE planning to do it today, weren't you?"

Mia stood in her characteristic pose, her hand up behind her back as she tugged on the long braid. "Well, yes, but Mom and I couldn't decide how."

Helen, who had followed Mia into Clarisse's suite, smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, I know I should have kept her away, but ..."

Clarisse waved regally. "It's not a problem. Now, as for your hair ... didn't Charlotte make sure you had a hairdresser this morning?"

"She's busy fighting with the flower people because they don't want to give you the colour you want." Mia said.

Before Clarisse could question that, Charlotte hurried into the room. "Your Majesty, the mauve roses you want to carry will be sent over to the cathedral in twenty minutes."

"Mauve?" Mia asked. "You mean, like purple?"

"A light purple." Clarisse nodded. "The Queen Clarisse rose."

"Wow, you have your own rose? Named after you and everything?" Mia was surprised.

"Yes. I'm sure you will too, some day. Thank you, Charlotte. Oh, and Charlotte, you look lovely," Clarisse added.

Charlotte blushed. "Thank you." Then she turned to Mia. "Your Highness, Chantal came to do your hair, but she couldn't find you. I'm afraid there won't be much time ..."

"Just call for her to come here, Charlotte," Clarisse said, standing up carefully as Priscilla and Olivia removed the protective sheet. "She may as well do it here."

"Yes, your Majesty," Charlotte crossed to the intercom system and moments later, another maid entered the suite.

Mia sat down and her hair was brushed out, then styled while she continued to talk to Clarisse. "Grandma, I know I said I wanted to be your maid of honour, but now I'm, you know, getting cold feet. What if I DO trip going up the aisle? My dress is a bit too long. Mom wouldn't let me get four inch heels, because she said I'd fall off them on the way up."

"I know you," Helen put in dryly from her position to the side. "I DID offer to tape up the hem!"

"Tape?" Clarisse raised her eyebrows.

Charlotte looked horrified and panicked. "You CAN'T do that! And now it's too late to get someone to sew it ..."

"It's all right if Mia just keeps her shoulders back and stands up straight," Helen said quickly. "Really, there's no need for a fuss ..."

"That's not what was bothering me, though. It was just the thought of that long walk by myself." Mia sighed.

"Well, I suppose we could change things, then, and you could walk up with Sebastian and Joseph and I could walk up together," Clarisse suggested.

"No, Grandma! You can't do that!" Mia looked as shocked as Charlotte.

Clarisse smiled. "It IS a second wedding, you know. It's not the same."

"It's not Joe's second wedding," Mia said. "Don't you think he'd like to see you in a veil and floating gracefully down the aisle towards him? Just like the dream wedding, you know?"

Her smile widening, Clarisse said, "Well, first of all, I'm not wearing a veil ..."

"You're NOT? You're crazy, Grandma! You HAVE to! Think of poor Joe ..." Mia persisted.

"Mia, it IS your grandmother's wedding, not yours. Normally a veil isn't worn for second weddings ..." Helen said to her daughter.

"Not even a little one, just down your back even a short way? Don't you have any more of that lace like your jacket?" Mia considered Clarisse's dress. "Hey, Grandma, I never said, but that dress is GORGEOUS!"

"Thank you, Mia." Clarisse glanced down at her champagne-coloured gown. It was simple, but elegant -- falling in graceful folds to her feet from a fitted bodice. A short, champagne-coloured lace jacket completed the ensemble. "Actually, I do believe there IS more of the lace. It's Genovian lace, you know. I suppose I could wear a waist-length veil just down the back."

Charlotte jumped into the conversation. "Oh, your Majesty, I think Joseph would really like to see you as a traditional bride, veil and all. You have that small tiara with the yellow topaz and diamonds that would match the champagne lace beautifully, and that yellow topaz necklace."

"Oh, very well," Clarisse said. "But we don't have much time ..."

"It's not a problem, your Majesty!" Olivia assured her as she scurried to fetch the tiara and Priscilla disappeared to find the length of lace.

"Now, Mia," Clarisse continued, a serene spot of calm and assurance in the midst of the chaos around her, "If Joseph has to stand up at the front as you say, then I'm afraid Sebastian Motaz will have to be there as well, so you'll just have to walk up the aisle by yourself. I'm sure you will be fine."

"But there'll be so many people ..." Mia grimaced.

Helen said, "I was always told to imagine everyone who was looking at me as wearing only their underwear, and the most ridiculous underwear I could think of. You know, like old men in sexy ladies' lingerie, lots of bright colours and sequins and feathers and things. You could try that."

The others all stared at her in disbelief. "A humongous roomful of women and men in UNDERWEAR?" Mia just about choked. "Now I WILL be sick."

Then Charlotte giggled. "Actually, now that you mention it ..."

Clarisse began to smile as well. "Yes ... the idea has merit ... I'm imagining a certain group of members of Parliament ..."

"In a thong," put in Mia, getting into the spirit of the fun.

"Or bikinis," Charlotte snickered, "imagine the fat old men in women's bikini tops!"

"Now SOME of them, like Joe, would be SPECTACULAR in a thong ..." Mia mused.

"AMELIA!" Clarisse remonstrated at the same time as Helen gasped Mia's name in horror.

"Just teasing," Mia grinned. "Okay, I think I'm gonna be all right with this now. Thanks, Mom."

Priscilla and Olivia both came back at the same time, and very quickly a veil was fashioned and attached to the tiara which was reverently placed in Clarisse's hair.

"Grandma," Mia said, solemnly, "you are stunning. Joe is gonna bust a gut when he sees you like this!"

"Mia ...!" groaned Helen. "PLEASE stop ..."

"It's time, your Majesty," Charlotte spoke up.

Clarisse nodded, and, as everyone paraded out the door ahead of her, Charlotte whispered to her, "You look simply beautiful ... Clarisse. If Joe wasn't already head over heels in love with you, he'd be falling now for sure!"

Clarisse chuckled, her hands clasping Charlotte's tightly. "Thank you. Thank you SO much, Charlotte. For everything. I just don't know what I'd do without you!"

"Then we'll hope you never have to," Charlotte returned, her own eyes suspiciously moist. "Come, your Majesty, your coach awaits." As they walked down the hallway, Charlotte continued, "We're all going in the limousine, but you'll be in the closed coach on the way to the church. We have the open carriages arranged to transport you and Joseph back to the palace following the ceremony. Princess Mia and the Prime Minister will be in the next carriage, and Mrs. Motaz and Mrs. Thermopolis in the third one."

"And you?"

"Oh, well, I'll get a ride back with Shades or ..."

"Charlotte," Clarisse stopped. "You are every bit as important in this wedding as Sheila and Helen! You will ride with them."

"But ..."

"You WILL ride with them. I AM still your queen," Clarisse reminded her gently.

Charlotte smiled faintly. "Very well, your Majesty. Yes, I will ride with them. Now please, we MUST get to the church on time!"

As she sat alone in the enclosed coach on the way to the cathedral, Clarisse tried to maintain her air of calm serenity. Yet inside, she was all fluttery, and her heart was pounding. In spite of not having thought this day even a remote possibility just one week ago and even in spite of having the control of her life taken out of her hands by a rather overbearing Parliament, she realized she was supremely happy for one of the few times in her life. She was also terrified when she thought of what the future entailed -- a future not only with her new grand-daughter, but now with a partner she had never before allowed herself to envision: a loving and beloved husband, a husband who was not only a good friend as Rupert had been, but even more: a vibrant, fully-alive husband who stirred her to the very depths of her being, depths never plumbed by her late husband and perhaps not even in the young girl she had been.

The coach stopped and Clarisse closed her eyes for a moment to gather her strength. When the door opened, she accepted a hand out of the vehicle and made her way through the cheering crowds, security guards flanking her as she stepped into the narthex of the cathedral and was shown the room where she was to wait. Mia, Helen, Charlotte and Sheila were already there, and Charlotte handed Clarisse the small trailing bouquet of mauve "Queen Clarisse" roses she had elected to carry. Mia had her own smaller bouquet of the same roses. The other three had corsages with the roses.

"Sebastian and Joseph have their corsages?" Clarisse asked, inwardly marvelling at the smoothness of her voice.

"Yes, your Majesty. I pinned them on myself." Charlotte said. "We're keeping Prince Pierre's corsage back until after the ceremony, as he is wearing his robes right now."

Clarisse nodded. Then Charlotte looked at the others. "It's time for us to be seated," she said.

Helen looked at Mia. "Remember, darling, you MUST keep your shoulders back and walk and stand tall or you're going to trip over your dress."

Mia rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mother!"

She and Clarisse stood at the back, Mia peeking through the partially open doors to watch the three women being ushered to the front. The chancel was decorated as the Archbishop had promised, a veritable bower of flowers. Flower arrangements hung from the ends of the pews and covered the walls of the nave as well. The pews were packed full of people.

White-faced, Mia looked at Clarisse. "I can't do it!" she stammered, terror in her eyes. "I'll be sick if I have to walk down there!"

"Mia ..." Clarisse hesitated. What was it Helen had advised Mia to do? Oh, yes. "Mia, you have to go. Remember, you're a princess. You can walk tall and proud ... and if you happen to catch someone's eyes, just imagine them in loud, brash lingerie. You can do it!"

Mia took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them and started walking. She made it safely all the way down the aisle, and only stumbled slightly on the step. Clarisse gasped faintly, but relaxed when Mia caught herself and moved smoothly into her place. The teenager still had a scared expression on her face, but when she looked over at Joseph and Sebastian and tried to smile, Clarisse knew Mia would be all right. In fact, at that moment, the smile widened to a grin on Mia's face, and Clarisse realized with amusement that her grand-daughter had just used her imagination. For a brief moment, the question crossed her mind as to who Mia had imagined and wearing what, then Clarisse promptly forgot her grand-daughter as the security guard nodded to her and threw open the doors. It was time.

As she walked down the aisle which had never seemed longer or more endless, Clarisse kept her eyes fixed on Joseph who was watching her with the same happiness on his face that she suspected was on her own. Dear Joseph ... how she loved him! And thank God for Sebastian Motaz who had suspected the love she herself hadn't, and had orchestrated Joseph's return in time!

Then she was at the steps. Joseph came down to meet her, and, taking his arm, Clarisse was soon standing in front of her son and the Archbishop, ready to commit herself to Joseph for the rest of her life.

The Archbishop smiled at the two, then spoke, his words amplified by the lapel mike he was wearing. "This is a day for celebration and thanksgiving -- the moment when, standing before God and all of us here, Clarisse Renaldi and Joseph Elizondo FINALLY pledge themselves to one another in the covenant of marriage. As with any aspect of life, marriage has its cycles, its ups and its downs, its trials and its triumphs and with full understanding of this, these two have come here today to be joined as one. Love is more than a feeling, it's a commitment. It's a commitment to work things out and to resolve the issues; to communicate when it's hard to and to forgive each other and start fresh each day. Good marriages take time and effort to build. They don't just happen. Clarisse and Joseph have demonstrated such a commitment over the years that have brought them to this point in their lives. At this time, others might ask, 'Who gives the bride in marriage?' I ask simply of Clarisse, do you come to this marriage of your own free will?"

"I do." Clarisse said tremulously, glad that she could reply in the affirmative with all her heart.

"And do you, Joseph, also come to this marriage of your own free will?"

"Most certainly I do!" Joseph nodded emphatically.

"By our presence here today, we accept responsibility for helping and encouraging these two in the new relationship they are about to enter. We are called to rejoice in their happiness, to be patient when they make mistakes, and to help them when they have trouble. Since their marriage is an extension and a continuation of the deep friendship we have all been privileged to watch grow, we now witness and bless their union and remember them in our prayers. Therefore, will all of you who witness this wedding give your blessing to Clarisse Renaldi and Joseph Elizondo, sharing with them the fellowship and joy of this new relationship and pledging your support to them in times of need? If so, say, "Yes, we will."

"YES, WE WILL!" came the loud affirmation from the congregation.

Pierre then began to speak, first reading from the scriptures. "In the Song of Songs, a biblical book of love, we hear, _'Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; for love is strong as death. Its flashes are flashes of fire, a most vehement flame. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it.'_ And reading from the gospel according to St. John, we hear Jesus say, '_As the father has loved me, so have I loved you; abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my father's commandments and abide in his love. These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be full. This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you._' You may have heard the statement that it is love that makes the world go round. However, without doubt, it is friendship which keeps our spinning existence on an even keel. True friendship provides so many of the essentials for a happy life. It is the foundation on which to build an enduring relationship, it is the mortar which bonds us together in harmony, and it is the calm, warm protection we sometimes need when the world outside seems cold and chaotic. True friendship holds a mirror to our foibles and failings, without destroying our sense of worthiness. True friendship nurtures our hopes, supports us in our disappointments, and encourages us to grow to our best potential.Many in Genovia were privileged to witness the birth of the friendship between my mother, Clarisse Renaldi, and Joseph Elizondo and to see this friendship grow into the love we celebrate today as they pledge to each other not only their love, but also the strength, warmth and, most importantly, the fun of true friendship. As Robert Browning said in one of his poems:

_ "Grow old along me!  
The Best is yet to be,__  
The last of life, for which the first made:  
__Our times are in His hands   
Who saith "A whole I have planned."   
Youth show but half;  
__Trust God: see all, nor be afraid.  
__"Our times are in his hands!"_

The Archbishop continued. "As time passes, remember that the best is yet to be. Your love should be firm as the ground beneath your feet, and as constant as the sky above your head. Let the powers of the mind and of the intellect guide you in your marriage, let the strength of your wills bind you together, let the power of love and desire make you happy, and the strength of your dedication make you inseparable. Be close, but not too close. Possess one another, yet be understanding. Have patience with one another, for storms will come that you will need to face together. Be free in giving affection and warmth. Have no fear, for God is with you always, and your times are in God's hands. Clarisse and Joseph, your marriage is intended to join you for life in a relationship that offers you the hope and the promise of a love that is true and mature which will give you a deeper and richer life together. The way of such a life together is not easy, but your love for each other will guide and sustain you along it. Love is sharing together, talking together, and listening together. With this in mind, Joseph, do you choose Clarisse to be your wife? Will you share with her your joys and sorrows, your needs and dreams? Will you offer her the freedom and support she needs to fulfill her own life? Will you give of yourself that together you may grow?"

"I will. I offer Clarisse my love, my strength, my support, my loyalty, my hope in all the changing circumstances of life." Joseph's voice was husky but firm.

Then the Archbishop turned to Clarisse. "Clarisse, do you choose Joseph to be your husband? Will you share with him your joys and sorrows, your needs and dreams? Will you offer him the freedom and support he needs to fulfill his own life? Will you give of yourself that together you may grow?"

"I will. I, too, offer Joseph my love, my strength, my support, my loyalty, my hope in all the changing circumstances of life." Clarisse answered clearly and precisely.

Pierre smiled at them both. "By these answers, your purpose and willingness to enter into a relationship of enduring love is affirmed. Now, the heart of your wedding is the vow, the covenant you make to each other; pledging to do everything in your power to help each other achieve the fullest possible development, against all obstacles, forever. The vows you are about to make unite you as a couple, duly recognized by this country. Since you have stated your intention to share with each other your laughter and your tears and all that the years will bring, face each other now, take each other's hands and, by your promises, bind yourselves to each other as husband and wife."

Clarisse passed her flowers to Mia, who almost dropped her own bouquet in the process, mouthing her apologies. Then Joseph warmly gripped Clarisse's hands, surreptitiously smoothing his thumb over her skin. She could feel the nerves tingling, and tightened her hold. As he repeated his vows, he looked deeply into her eyes. "In the presence of God and before these witnesses, I, Joseph, take you, Clarisse, with my hand, my heart, and my spirit, to be my wife; to have and to hold from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, to love and to cherish, in life and beyond, where we shall meet, remember, and love again."

Clarisse's eyes were brimming, but she managed to repeat her vows in a steady voice, never taking her eyes off Joseph's.

Then the Archbishop took the rings from Sebastian and held them up, saying, "These wedding rings mark the beginning of a life journey together filled with wonder, surprise, laughter, tears, celebration, grief and joy. Rings are without edge or seam, having no beginning and no end, so they symbolize the perfection of love that cannot end. May these rings be a sign to you both of the continuing love you have finally pledged to one another today."

As he handed Clarisse's ring to Joseph, the Archbishop smiled and winked, then murmured the words Joseph was to repeat aloud as he slid the ring on Clarisse's finger.

"Clarisse, I give you this ring as a sign of my love, knowing that love is precious and fragile yet strong. May it always remind us both of our marriage."

Clarisse put Joseph's ring on his finger, noting that her hand was trembling. She steadied it, and repeated, "Joseph, I give you this ring as a sign of my love, knowing that love is precious and fragile yet strong. May it always remind us both of our marriage."

Then Pierre handed both of them a single red rose. Clarisse was a little taken aback, as she had not known about this part of the service. She glanced at Joseph, who had a slight frown of puzzlement on his face. Obviously he was unaware of the significance of the rose as well. Pierre smiled, whispered "I saw you both in the garden this morning and added this part!", then said aloud, "Your gift to each other for your wedding today has been your wedding rings, which shall always be an outward demonstration of your vows of love and respect and a public showing of your commitment to each other. The red rose is considered a symbol of triumphant love and a single rose has always meant the words 'I love you'. So it is appropriate that your first gift to each other as husband and wife will be a single rose. Please exchange your first gift as husband and wife."

They exchanged their roses, smiling at each other again and seeing the lovelight in the other's eyes.

Pierre continued"In some ways, it seems like you have not done anything at all. Just a moment ago you were holding one small rose - and now you are still holding one small rose. In some ways, a marriage ceremony is like this. In some ways, tomorrow may seem no different than yesterday. But in fact, today you both have given and received one of the most valuable and precious gifts of life, the gift of true and abiding love within the devotion of marriage. I encourage you both on each anniversary of this truly wonderful occasion to place a rose on the other's pillow as a re-commitment to your marriage and a re-commitment that THIS will be a marriage based upon love. In every marriage, there are times where it is difficult to find the right words. It is easiest to hurt and be hurt by those we most love. It might be difficult sometimes to find words to say 'I am sorry', 'I forgive you', 'I need you' or 'I am hurting'. If you simply cannot find these words, leave a rose on the other's pillow, for that rose then says what matters most of all and should overpower all other things and all other words. That rose still says the words: 'I love you'. The other should accept this rose for the words which cannot be found, and remember the love and hope that you both share today."

Clarisse looked into Joseph's eyes, and they both nodded solemnly. Then they returned their attention to the Archbishop, who said, "Since you have promised your love to each other, and have exchanged these solemn vows and these symbols of abiding love, I now pronounce you husband and wife, according to the Spirit of God and the laws of Genovia. From now on, each of you will see your own experiences in a new light as your life together unfolds. May you have courage to love each other, not only as you are, but as you are yet to be, with a love that is always new. May your love so endure that its flame remains a sign of the fire within your hearts, and may that fire burn as long as the stars shine. You may seal your love with a kiss."

Joseph pressed his lips against hers, and Clarisse felt the heat from his body sear through her until she melted into his embrace, warm and willing. The kiss fed their hunger, but didn't begin to satisfy the needs that were raging inside them both. They only broke apart, colouring slightly, when everyone in the church applauded and Mia cried aloud, "Whoohoo!"

The Archbishop began the blessing, "Clarisse and Joseph, may your marriage bring you all the excitements a marriage should bring. May life grant you patience, tolerance and understanding. May you always need one another -- not so much to fill your emptiness as to help you to know your fullness. May you succeed in all important ways with one another and not fail in the little graces."

Pierre concluded with a wide smile, "May you look for things to praise, often say 'I love you', and take no notice of small faults. May you have happiness, and may you find it making one another happy. May you have love and may you find it loving one another. Go forth bound together by the love of God. Go with hope and joy and with a heart full of dreams, knowing that God is always with you. Amen."

The table for signing the church register was off to one side. Pierre and the Archbishop proceeded over to it, and Joseph and Clarisse followed. Charlotte and Sheila Motaz joined them, and in moments the marriage was legal in the eyes of the state as well as the church.

Then the Archbishop announced in a ringing voice, "We now welcome these two as a married couple, bound together by the vows they have made this day. Today is a new beginning in their lives, in the lives of those who love them, and indeed, for all of Genovia!" and again the applause in the cathedral was thunderous.

O o O o O o

In the open carriage on the way back to the palace for the luncheon, a security guard standing stiffly behind them, Joseph and Clarisse both waved with one hand which was holding their single rose while they kept the other hands clasped under cover of her skirt. They murmured in low voices which could not be overheard.

"You are my life, Clarisse," Joseph said huskily. "My love."

There was such a wealth of emotion in his voice that Clarisse felt a delicious warmth begin deep within her as a thousand tiny nerve-endings leapt into pulsating life.

"So many wasted years," she offered with deep regret. "Joseph, I love you so much ..."

"I find it hard to believe that joy like this is mine for the taking. I hope you have done the right thing marrying me, Clarisse."

"I only know that life has never felt so wonderful before, Joseph," she whispered softly

Then Joseph chuckled as cheers from the crowd broke the sensual haze surrounding them, and Clarisse blinked, raising her hand again in a wave.

"Later," came Joseph's promise, and she gripped his hand tightly in agreement.

Then he leaned over and swiftly kissed her, causing the crowd to roar its approval.

O o O o O o

When everyone met outside the doors of the palace ballroom before being announced for the luncheon, Mia was horrified to hear that she was supposed to walk in alone again. "But I HATE it!" she almost wailed.

"You did fine at the church, Mia!" her mother said, almost impatiently.

"Only when I did what you said," Mia grinned suddenly as she remembered that terrifying moment at the front of the cathedral, knowing that all eyes were still on her.

"What did you do?" Joseph inquired idly, playing with Clarisse's fingers which rested on his arm.

Mia dimpled. "Imagined you and Sebastian in hot pink bikinis."

Clarisse choked, as did Charlotte and Helen. Sheila began to giggle, and Sebastian looked askance. Joseph's eyes widened, and he said incredulously to Helen, "You told your daughter to imagine us in ... like THAT?"

No one inside the ballroom ever found out what had caused the gales of laughter which preceded the arrival of the bridal party, but it lasted a few minutes, and the Motaz' were still grinning as they were announced. Charlotte assured Mia that they would be waiting just inside the door. Mia nodded glumly, then plastered a smile on her face as she stepped forward. However, she forgot to keep her shoulders back and stumbled on her gown before the doors were fully opened, so Helen stepped up beside her and said they would go in together. Charlotte came in after them without being announced, then Clarisse and Joseph swept in to loud and prolonged applause. Clarisse overheard Mia questioning Charlotte as to why she had come in without being announced like the others, and Charlotte replied that she merely worked for the queen, she wasn't a wedding guest, as such.

"Yet she asked you to be a witness for her wedding?" Mia said skeptically. "I'd say you seem closer than just someone who WORKS for her!"

Clarisse leaned over and said in an undertone to them both, "She is closer, she just has a hard time accepting it." Before either could react, Clarisse and Joseph were greeting some of the members of Parliament who hurried up at that point.

Charlotte stepped out of the way and Mia and Helen tried to find a safe haven as well. Then Mia was trapped by a rather drunken Lord Fricker. Clarisse heard him say to her grand-daughter, "You're the one who set fire to me a few weeks ago! AND the one who then froze my hand by plunging it into the ice bucket ... and the absolute WORST thing that happened because of that incident is that NOW MY TIE HAS WATER SPOTS ON IT!" he finished in a wail.

Clarisse moved to Mia's rescue, but Charlotte was there first, taking the glass from Lord Fricker's hand and attempting to soothe him before Lord Crawley bore down on them and berated the inebriated gentleman.

Helen pulled Mia away, only to be greeted by Lord Palimore who harrumphed and pounded his stick on the floor as he said, "So, you are the one who raised our Princess without her father?"

Clarisse saw Helen's eyes flash, and stepped up quickly. "Hot pink bikinis!" she said to Mia and Helen. Without waiting for their reaction, she turned to the older gentleman. "Lord Palimore, I'm so glad you could attend our wedding. Where is Lady Palimore?"

"Oh, she's here, your Majesty. May I say that it was a lovely wedding, a lovely wedding indeed, for such short notice!"

"Yes, but I really didn't have much say in the matter, did I?" Clarisse replied evenly, looking him straight in the eye.

"Hmmph," he said again. "Bad business, that. We shouldn't have listened to the Viscount. Well, no hard feelings, your Majesty, you appear to be quite happy now."

"Oh, I am, Lord Palimore." Clarisse said softly. "I am indeed."

O o O o O o

Never had a luncheon dragged on so interminably. Although Clarisse was enjoying the unexpected visit with her grand-daughter, she was ever conscious of Joseph at her side. He didn't help matters when he tried to break her composure by making little comments for her ears alone about some of the guests at the lunch as well as his suggestions for what they could do once they were alone. Clarisse found the colour creeping up her cheeks at some of those suggestions, in spite of her determination not to let Joseph rattle her.

At last the luncheon was over. Clarisse retired with Mia and Helen to change into the burgundy dress they had given her, then, when she returned, it was time for the limousine to take Joseph and Clarisse to the hotel in Mertz where they planned to spend their short honeymoon. Clarisse kissed her son Pierre, thanking him profusely for coming and promising to keep in touch with a great deal more regularity in the future. With a loving smile, she pulled a single rose out of her bouquet and handed it to him, saying, "I'll remember about the rose!"

Joseph and Pierre shook hands, grinning at each other, as Clarisse hugged Mia and Helen tightly, saying she would see them in a few weeks when they returned to Genovia for the summer. Then Clarisse turned to Sebastian and Sheila Motaz, thanking them for all their help that day, and the preceding days. Joseph was profuse in his thanks as well, knowing very well that had Sebastian not kept him informed of the situation in Genovia, he would not now be married to Clarisse.

Finally Clarisse spoke to Charlotte. "We'll be back next Sunday without fail. I'm certain you will be able to cope with anything that might come up this next week, and we'll meet as usual that Monday morning in my office. Thank you, Charlotte, once more, and just let me assure you that I intend to follow Philippe's example, and help you in your quest. Goodbye for now."

"Good bye, your Majesty. Once again, I'm SO happy for you and Joseph."

Waving their good byes and accepting the congratulations of the crowds, Joseph and Clarisse finally escaped and the limousine sped towards Mertz. It had been a roller-coaster ride of emotions all week, but they both now had a glorious lifetime together ahead of them ... a lifetime of love shared and duty fulfilled.

The End.

_A/N: Many, many thanks to all who helped me with this part as well as the last! _

_ As for those who are worried about how this story will impact on the PD2 movie, I'll explain how it can still be close. As my interest is mainly Joseph and Clarisse, of course, I would hope the movie would have much more in it about their life together. As for Mia's future, the rule "queens must be married" has been abolished, of course, but Mia could STILL say she has never fallen in love by the time she is 21 (although I had thought THAT had been established in the first movie with Michael, so maybe Garry Marshall meant not REALLY in love. After all, not many people end up marrying their first love, especially if the first love is at age 15. That aside ...). The birthday ball could still happen, Mia could still meet Nicholas, the Viscount could still catch her crown and mutter that he would like to steal it. At the Parliament meeting the next day, the Viscount could bring up the eligibility of Nicholas for the throne (and his birthdate would be changed to be closer to Mia's, otherwise why would the Viscount have waited six months or more to make his move?) ... Mia could still overhear this, and be furious because he's trying to take the crown from her. Although there is nothing wrong with being single (!), perhaps Mia had confided her desire to fall in love to her grandmother ... so the picture show, etc. could still happen, and Andrew could be brought to the palace where Nicholas would also have been installed so that Clarisse could keep an eye on him! Maybe Mia would be trying to fall in love and marry to keep Parliament from being sorry they had revoked the law, or just because Clarisse tells her it is MUCH easier to do with someone by your side to support you. Anyway, MOST of the movie could be the same up to the wedding. Mia COULD merely change her mind, but I would hope she would do that before it got quite that far. Anyway, perhaps Andrew realized that Lady Elyssa suited him better, so they called it off together. The press would probably still think it was because of Mia and Nicholas spending the night outside, but so be it. Then Nicholas would come back, contrite that he had left Mia to face the storm on her own, and the coronation could take place on schedule. VOILA ... an edited but possible PD2 movie ... hopefully with a lot of Joseph and Clarisse and their married life included in it!_


End file.
